My mom was pregnant with her seventh child… and the moment I said I couldn’t keep raising her kids anymore, she reported me like I was a runaway and had the police come after me....

The judge’s chambers were quiet, a sharp contrast to the chaotic energy of the courthouse lobby.

Judge Sarah Sterling was a woman in her sixties with sharp, intelligent eyes and a halo of curly white hair. She sat behind a massive mahogany desk cluttered with legal volumes, family photos, and a small, brass scale of justice. She wasn't wearing her black robe; instead, she wore a simple green cardigan that made her look more like a grandmother than a powerful arbiter of the law.

"Come in, Savannah," Judge Sterling said, pointing to a leather chair in front of her desk. "Your aunt and the attorneys are waiting outside. I wanted to speak to you alone first."

I sat down, the leather cool against my legs. I felt small in the massive office, but the warmth in the judge’s eyes kept me from feeling afraid.

"I’ve read the preliminary reports from CPS," Judge Sterling began, leaning forward and resting her chin on her hands. "And I’ve listened to the audio recordings you provided. Savannah, what you’ve lived through over the past six years is... well, it’s a tragedy. You’ve been forced to be an adult before you ever had a chance to be a child."

"I didn't mind helping," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. "I love my brothers and sisters. I would do anything for them. But... but I couldn't do it anymore. When my mom told me she was pregnant again, I felt like I couldn't breathe. I knew I’d have to drop out of school. I knew I’d never go to college. I felt like I was drowning, and no one was looking."

Judge Sterling’s expression softened, a deep, maternal sympathy in her eyes. "You were drowning, Savannah. And you did the only thing a sensible person does when they’re drowning—you reached for a lifeline. Your Aunt Helena."

"Is she going to be allowed to keep us?" I asked, my voice trembling with the question that had kept me awake for days. "Greg says she’s too old. He says she doesn't have enough money."

"Your stepfather is currently facing serious criminal charges," the judge said, her tone hardening slightly. "The state will be filing a protective order today, barring both Gregory and Angela Vance from having any contact with you or your siblings pending the outcome of their trials. But the question of long-term custody is complicated. Six children is a massive responsibility for a single woman on a fixed income, even one as dedicated as your Aunt Helena."

My heart dropped into my stomach. "But... but if we don't stay with her, we’ll be split up. Toby and Leo need to be together. And baby Noah... he doesn't know anyone but me."

"I know," Judge Sterling said gently. "And my goal is to keep you all together. But we need a plan, Savannah. We need a support system. We can't just dump six children on Helena and hope for the best. CPS is going to provide financial assistance, and we’re looking into private charitable trusts. But I need to know... are you prepared to help your aunt, not as a parent, but as a sister? Can you let her be the adult while you focus on being a teenager?"

I looked at the small brass scale on her desk. For six years, the scale of my life had been entirely tipped toward survival, toward sacrifice, toward putting everyone else’s needs before my own.

"I want to go to school," I said, a tear finally escaping my eye and rolling down my cheek. "I want to take my algebra test. I want to buy a prom dress someday. I want to watch my siblings grow up, but I want to watch them from the passenger seat, not the driver's seat."