Free Freedom's Child by Jax Miller

knowing she’s innocent? I had to give it to her, she had a set of brass balls, though she probably ate them too.
    “I want my fucking children back,” I demanded. She looked at me like she was seven shades of offended.
    “Don’t use that tone with me,” she said as she opened her briefcase. I exhaled as deeply as I could and made sure she heard it. I wanted her to know my patience was as thin as paper. She started to jot notes in one of the hundred files.
    “Would you be so kind”—I crossed my hands and brought them to my chin with puppy-dog eyes—“to give me my goddamn children back, Your Fucking Highness.”
    “Nessa, it’s not that simple.”
    “Why the hell not?”
    Sharon Goodwyn got short with me. “Because you gave up your parental rights.” She pointed her pen in my face and it took all that I had not to take it and ram it through that pig nose of hers.
    “They were taken from me because of the murder charge.”
    “There were other options…” She trailed off into her papers.
    “Like what?”
    “Like what?” She closed the file. “Let’s say the Delaneys, for starters.”
    “Those crackheads?” I laughed as I lit a cigarette. “I guess you’re not familiar with that family. Not a fucking chance in hell.”
    “You can’t smoke in here.”
    “So arrest me.”
    “I’m going to be frank with you, Nessa.” She sighed. “A lot of this is out of my hands.” She slid a piece of paper over to me, one with my signature on the bottom. “The second you signed this, you made itdamn near impossible to ever get those kids back, even if I had nothing to do with it.” But I remembered the choice being taken out of my hands when I was facing a life term, the way they said that it was what was best for them since I’d be rotting the rest of my life away in prison. And if that were the case, they’d be right. But I wasn’t rotting in prison, not anymore. “Nessa, this can take years. And even then, the chances are slim.”
    I put out my smoke because she was trying her best to be civil with me. I’m not saying I liked her any better, I’m only saying I put out a fucking cigarette. I hated the fact that she had to see it, but I couldn’t control the tears that came. “Can I not even see them?” I cried.
    “I can put in a request to the family they’re with, but, ultimately, it will be up to them.”
    “They’re together?”
    “Yes. We do try our best to keep siblings together.” I used my shirt to dry my face. She looked at me with pity, and there’s nothing I hated more. “I’ve met them. I did the home study on them. I’m telling you, they’re with a great family. Very loving.”
    I had a lot to consider, more than most people in their lifetimes ever have to consider. Maybe the swine was right. I mean, I knew the U.S. Marshals were waiting outside, since Witness Protection had already been offered to me. And what kind of life is that for children? And if I didn’t go into Witness Protection, God knows what would happen if the Delaneys ever got to us now that Matthew Delaney was up on charges for Mark’s murder.
    Suddenly, I craved my son’s skin. His laugh. I wanted to hear the breaths of my daughter, whom I hadn’t seen since I gave birth to her in a prison hospital. I craved their small hands, their tiny fingers wrapped around mine. I craved the beating of their hearts against mine when they’d fall asleep on me. And more than ever, I craved their happiness.
    “I assure you,” Sharon Goodwyn continued. “They’re happy there. And they will have a wonderful life with this family. I promise.It truly is the best thing you can do for them. It’s the best thing that any loving mother can do.”
    But I had a plan.
    I jumped up and flipped the table between us into the air and screamed something awful, something unintelligible. I kicked the walls, forcing the caseworker to her fat little feet and to hobble to the door. Two U.S. Marshals whom I’d never met tried to