Glass (Crank 2)

A glimpse out the peephole gives

no definitive answers. It’s a guy

in a suit. Detective? If I don’t answer,

he’ll go away, but I’m guessing

he’ll be back. At least my semi-

naked state will give me the excuse

to go into the other room, dispose

of evidence if need be. I crack

the door around the chain. “Yes?”

Kristina Georgia Snow? He slides

a sheaf of papers through the opening.

Consider yourself served. The man

turns on his heel, leaves without

threatening to come inside. Not

a detective. Only a process server.

Relieved but still shaking, I force

myself to look at what’s written on

the papers. Something about Hunter?

I read further. Despite the hefty

legalese, I understand the gist

of the six-page document. Mom

and Scott have filed for custody.

They claim I’m an unfit mother,

cite drug abuse and several instances

of observed “unstable behavior.”

They’re asking to be appointed

legal guardians. Immediately.

If I Want to Fight Them

I’ll have to pass a drug test.

Go to court.