Chapter 5 - Protective Custody
Leo woke up in the pediatric intensive care unit just as dawn was breaking. The storm had passed, leaving behind a pale, washed-out sky. I was sitting in the chair beside his bed, reviewing his chart.
His eyelids fluttered open, adjusting to the dim morning light. He reached a small hand up, feeling the heavy gauze bandage taped over his right cheek.
"It's gone," I said softly, leaning forward. "The surgery went perfectly, Leo. You're safe."
He blinked, processing the information. The sheer relief that washed over his bruised face broke my heart all over again. He didn't cry, which somehow made it worse; he had learned long ago that crying didn't bring help.
"Where's Greg?" he asked, his voice raspy.
"Greg is in jail," I told him honestly. "The police arrested him. He is never, ever going to hurt you again. I promise."
Later that morning, a CPS caseworker named Brenda arrived. She was a no-nonsense woman with kind eyes and a thick file. We stood in the hallway outside Leo's room.
"I’ve spoken with the police," Brenda said. "Greg is being charged with felony child abuse, endangerment, and false imprisonment. He's not getting out anytime soon. The mother, Diane, is downstairs in the psychiatric wing. She’s heavily dependent on narcotics that Greg was supplying her. She claims she was terrified of him and too incapacitated to stop him."
"Can she take care of Leo?" I asked, a protective instinct flaring hot in my chest.
"No," Brenda shook her head firmly. "Not in her current state. She's going into a mandatory rehab facility, and she’s facing neglect charges herself. Leo is officially a ward of the state. He'll be placed in emergency foster care as soon as he's medically cleared for discharge."
I looked through the glass window into Leo's room. He was eating a cup of red Jell-O, his eyes glued to a cartoon on the small television. He looked so small in the hospital bed, an anchorless ship in a terrifying ocean.
"Brenda," I started, pausing to choose my words carefully. "I'm a licensed foster parent in the state of Oregon. I went through the certification two years ago. I have an empty room in my house."
Brenda raised an eyebrow, looking from me to the boy through the glass. "Dr. Thomas, it's highly unusual for the attending physician to take placement. There are boundaries..."
"I know," I interrupted gently. "But the trauma he's suffered—the medical follow-ups he's going to need for the nerve damage and the psychological care... he needs stability. He trusts me. Sending him to a stranger's house right now will just be another terrifying shed for him."
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Brenda sighed, tapping her pen against her clipboard. "I'll make the calls. No promises. But if the judge approves an emergency kinship-style placement, you'd better be ready."
"I've never been more ready," I said.
