CHAPTER THREE — THE SECOND INTERRUPTION
The water failed again on Thursday evening, while Gabriel was washing the dinner dishes.
He shut off the tap immediately and called me into the kitchen.
Our neighbors across the lane still had lights and water, and the city outage line reported nothing.
Gabriel called the utility directly instead of touching the exterior service equipment.
A crew arrived before midnight.
The workers inspected the accessible equipment and documented signs of unauthorized interference.
They restored service, added protective measures, and said further interference should be reported to police.
Their supervisor declined to describe the equipment in front of the children.
His discretion made me respect him more.
Ellis sat at the table through the visit, drawing black waves across a sheet of paper.
“Does it matter if Theo comes tomorrow?” she asked when the workers left.
“What matters is that everyone knows the water is working and the house is safe,” Gabriel answered.
He did not tell her to stop worrying.
She pushed the drawing across the table.
It showed two small figures in separate boats, with a thick black line between them.
I wanted to erase the line for her.
Instead I asked whether she wanted me to sit beside her until bedtime.
She nodded.
At seven the next morning, a county inspector arrived with Nia.
The visit was calm and thorough.
They checked working taps, clean bathrooms, smoke alarms, sleeping arrangements, food storage, and our plan for calling emergency services.
We gave them the utility service reports.
The inspector said the records showed responsible action following an external interruption.
There were no grounds to stop the family visit on the condition of the house.
When he left, Ellis whooped so loudly that our dog Mabel barked at the ceiling.
Then Nia asked to speak with Gabriel and me privately.
“Somebody made an anonymous report yesterday,” she said.
The caller had claimed we knowingly housed a child without safe running water and planned to conceal the problem until Theo was placed with us.
Nia had checked the timing against our own report.
“The claim doesn’t align with what you told us or what the utility found,” she said.
I asked whether the caller had given a name.
“I can’t share the identifying information I don’t have,” Nia answered.
She placed a folder beside her chair.
“There is something else.”
Paula had contacted a volunteer group that supported foster families and described herself as a candidate for a new placement involving siblings.
She had been told she could not participate while her license remained inactive.
The group had referred her back to the county.
“She may be trying to position herself as an alternative,” Nia said.
“That does not make her an eligible caregiver.”
Gabriel looked toward the kitchen window.
Paula was standing near her fence with a phone pressed to her ear.
“Can we ask the police to speak with her?” he said.
“You can report the documented interference,” Nia replied.
“Please don’t turn a suspicion into a confrontation before investigators have facts.”
We agreed.
That afternoon Theo arrived with his current foster parents, the Morrows, for a supervised weekend visit.
He carried a backpack shaped like a turtle.
Ellis met him on the porch before Nia had finished greeting us.
They did not hug immediately.
They stood face-to-face for a long second, searching for proof that the visit was real.
Then Theo dropped his turtle backpack and wrapped both arms around his sister.
Inside, he ran straight upstairs to find the red quilt.
He was delighted by the room until he noticed the drawing Ellis had left on the desk.
“Why are we in different boats?” he asked.
Ellis took the paper and folded it twice.
“It’s an old picture,” she said.
After lunch, somebody rang our doorbell three times.
Paula stood on the porch holding two brightly wrapped presents.
“I thought I would welcome the boy,” she announced.
Theo came to the hall, curious.
I stepped between him and the door.
“This isn’t a good time,” I said.
Paula leaned sideways to see him.
“Hello, Theodore.”
His shoulders stiffened.
“Don’t call me that,” he said.
Paula’s smile widened.
“Your sister told me you liked model trains.”
Ellis had told her no such thing.
Theo loved insects and swimming, but he was terrified of trains after a childhood accident.
I held Paula’s gaze.
“You need to leave.”
She set the gifts on our step.
“Children remember who tries to be kind,” she said.
I shut the door without accepting them.
Theo looked at me, then at Ellis.
“Who is that lady?” he asked.
Ellis squeezed his hand.
“Someone who needs to mind her own business,” she said.
For the first time all week, I laughed.
