The next days blurred in a rush of scrutiny. Strangers walked through her modest apartment, opening cupboards, checking smoke alarms, asking pointed questions about her finances and hours. Clara scrubbed every corner until her hands ached, praying they wouldn’t see the loneliness tucked into the spaces of her life.
At last, she was told she could keep the child under foster care while the investigation continued. No claims had been filed. When she carried the baby home that evening, her chest swelled with a mix of fear and fierce determination. For now, at least, she was no longer empty.