opportunity slip-ping away.” Listen, I can see the file if I want to. But all I really need is one piece of information. Maybe you could check it your-self and give me that detail.”
Olivia stared at him, not answering one way or another.
“I need to know where the girl, Heidi, was placed. Who she was placed with.”
Give me a break, here, lady
…
Olivia's eyes grew wide and she laughed out loud. “That's exactly what the state wants kept private.” She thought a moment. “How old did you say the case was?”
Jordan's shoulders fell. “Sixteen years.” Would he never find Heidi? Was there no way to see the file?
A deep chuckle rang from behind the counter again as Olivia shook her head. “A case that old wouldn't be at this courthouse anyway. Those files are at the state's microfilm library. You'd have to petition them if you want a chance to be heard. Even then, I've never heard of opening a placement case. Only the person whose file it is has a right to see those records.”
“Fine, I'll try the microfilm library.” Jordan smiled, wondering if it hid the pain that racked his heart.
Heidi, don't give up on me… I'm trying to find you.
“You know—” Olivia's expression softened, as though what she was about to say might actually help Jordan feel better about his wasted effort— “after sixteen years she wouldn't be at the same foster home anymore. She's probably married and living halfway across the country”
“Yeah.” A hundred knives pierced Jordan's heart as he stared at the woman. “Thanks.”
He was in his car in five minutes, driving to his second visit. As he navigated the streets of Bethany the memories came again. He and his mother and sister riding bikes through the shady roads near their home.
I'll
race you, Jordan…
“
Heidi's voice echoed in the hallways of his memory, sounding as alive today as it had all those years ago.
Stop!
Jordan ordered himself to remain in the present. Three more turns, and he was on Oak Street, the place where he and his family had lived for what seemed his entire childhood. He slowed the car, struck by how small and crowded the houses looked.
We thought we lived in a castle back then.
He kept driving, searching for signs of the house he still knew better than any other, the only place he'd ever felt at home.
Finally he saw it. It was beige now instead of white, with chocolate brown shutters instead of the blue his mother had painted the summer he was six or seven. It seemed to be about half the size he remembered, but otherwise it looked the same. He thought about walking up to the door and asking for a look around. Then he changed his mind. It would be one thing to walk once more through the rooms where they'd been a happy family. But there would be no avoiding his mother's room, the place where she'd spent most of her time in the months before her death.
Jordan felt tears in his eyes and blinked them back. That was years ago. He had moved on, and now there was just one reason for driving through the old neighborhood. His gaze shifted to the house next door, where the Moses family had lived. Was it pos-sible they still lived there? That maybe—-just maybe—after all the years that had passed… Faith was right here in Bethany?
He parked the car and walked up the sidewalk to the place where he had spent so many of his boyhood days. He knocked on the door, then took a step back, running a hand over his suit, smoothing the wrinkles. If Faith didn't live here, maybe the new owners remembered the Moses family.
The door opened and a man in his sixties—a man Jordan had never seen before—looked at him curiously. “Can I help you?”
His heart sank.” Yes, I'm looking for the Bob Moses family. They… uh, they used to live here.”
The man smiled, but it didn't hide his guarded expression. “You a friend of the Moses family?”
Jordan nodded and remembered his small-town manners. “Yes, sir. Lived next door when I was a boy I live in New
Olivia stared at him, not answering one way or another.
“I need to know where the girl, Heidi, was placed. Who she was placed with.”
Give me a break, here, lady
…
Olivia's eyes grew wide and she laughed out loud. “That's exactly what the state wants kept private.” She thought a moment. “How old did you say the case was?”
Jordan's shoulders fell. “Sixteen years.” Would he never find Heidi? Was there no way to see the file?
A deep chuckle rang from behind the counter again as Olivia shook her head. “A case that old wouldn't be at this courthouse anyway. Those files are at the state's microfilm library. You'd have to petition them if you want a chance to be heard. Even then, I've never heard of opening a placement case. Only the person whose file it is has a right to see those records.”
“Fine, I'll try the microfilm library.” Jordan smiled, wondering if it hid the pain that racked his heart.
Heidi, don't give up on me… I'm trying to find you.
“You know—” Olivia's expression softened, as though what she was about to say might actually help Jordan feel better about his wasted effort— “after sixteen years she wouldn't be at the same foster home anymore. She's probably married and living halfway across the country”
“Yeah.” A hundred knives pierced Jordan's heart as he stared at the woman. “Thanks.”
He was in his car in five minutes, driving to his second visit. As he navigated the streets of Bethany the memories came again. He and his mother and sister riding bikes through the shady roads near their home.
I'll
race you, Jordan…
“
Heidi's voice echoed in the hallways of his memory, sounding as alive today as it had all those years ago.
Stop!
Jordan ordered himself to remain in the present. Three more turns, and he was on Oak Street, the place where he and his family had lived for what seemed his entire childhood. He slowed the car, struck by how small and crowded the houses looked.
We thought we lived in a castle back then.
He kept driving, searching for signs of the house he still knew better than any other, the only place he'd ever felt at home.
Finally he saw it. It was beige now instead of white, with chocolate brown shutters instead of the blue his mother had painted the summer he was six or seven. It seemed to be about half the size he remembered, but otherwise it looked the same. He thought about walking up to the door and asking for a look around. Then he changed his mind. It would be one thing to walk once more through the rooms where they'd been a happy family. But there would be no avoiding his mother's room, the place where she'd spent most of her time in the months before her death.
Jordan felt tears in his eyes and blinked them back. That was years ago. He had moved on, and now there was just one reason for driving through the old neighborhood. His gaze shifted to the house next door, where the Moses family had lived. Was it pos-sible they still lived there? That maybe—-just maybe—after all the years that had passed… Faith was right here in Bethany?
He parked the car and walked up the sidewalk to the place where he had spent so many of his boyhood days. He knocked on the door, then took a step back, running a hand over his suit, smoothing the wrinkles. If Faith didn't live here, maybe the new owners remembered the Moses family.
The door opened and a man in his sixties—a man Jordan had never seen before—looked at him curiously. “Can I help you?”
His heart sank.” Yes, I'm looking for the Bob Moses family. They… uh, they used to live here.”
The man smiled, but it didn't hide his guarded expression. “You a friend of the Moses family?”
Jordan nodded and remembered his small-town manners. “Yes, sir. Lived next door when I was a boy I live in New
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