The Trade
     The police officer looked directly into my blue, bloodshot eye’s and asked me to state my name. “Emily Park,” I blurted letting out a sob.  He drilled me with questions that made me feel as if I were betraying my aunt like she betrayed me.  He was an old sympathetic cop.  He told me he needed to take a statement from me.  “Take a deep breath and relax.  Tell me exactly what happened sweetheart,” he muffled with a New York accent that I was so used to hearing now that I lived with my aunt.  Or “lived” with my aunt you might say.  Telling him my story, I began with the way I felt when Aunt Rhonda was arrested.    
    Staring intensely between my Aunt Rhonda and Cousin Leah, I didn’t know what to say.  It felt like someone had ripped the words from my mouth.  I had just proven to my cousin that her mother was selling drugs when she caught us.  A look of pure sadness paled my cousins face.
As we stood there motionless for what seemed like hours, a sudden pounding at the door shook us from our stupor.  Aunt Rhonda hurried out of the room and rushed down the creaky stairs to greet who she thought was an adoption agent. 
Leah and I slowly followed but to our disbelief instead of an adoption agent there was a police officer hovering in our doorway.  In our surprise he started to handcuff my aunt!
The moment seemed surreal.  It was supposed to be a happy day.  The day Aunt Rhonda would adopt me.  I was finally going to be part of a family again after my parents had died of cancer from smoking.  I had always told them to stop smoking but they never listened.  Instead of hearing your adoption is final, I heard a gruff voice reciting the Miranda Rights to my aunt.
She had promised me that she would stop selling drugs.  She never used, she “just” sold them to help out with the bills.  I begged her to stop, warning her someone could get hurt or she could be arrested.  Aunt Rhonda gave me her word that she would stop.  
I wanted to believe her but needed to be sure.  On the afternoon of adoption day, I took the south route home from school.   It was dangerous but it was the only way I could settle this unrelenting feeling of uncertainty.  I wanted to be sure that she wasn’t there selling drugs. 
A shiver ran down my spine as I walked along Main Street.  There was a lot going on around me but the only sound I heard was my feet crunching along the ice coated pavement. 
It was a bitter, cold day and I longed to be home waiting for the adoption agent in the warmth of the cozy living room of the petite red brick house that I had called home over the past 3 months.  The last thing that I wanted to be doing was walking down Main Street proving that my soon to be mother was selling drugs.  I walked with determination scanning the area in hopes that I would not spot her. 
I always keep an eye out on the south route.  Being aware of everything around me.  The store fronts with barred up windows and the flickering street lights gave me a threatening sense.  Suddenly, I spotted my aunt walking down the opposite side of the street.  She had long blonde hair and was short and thin just like me.  Before my mom died she would always tell me how “Aunt Rhonda had a lot of brains for a little lady.”
“Aunt Rhonda always reminds me a lot of myself,” I babbled to the police officer. He didn’t respond he was busy scribbling down my story. I continued to articulate the story picking up were I left off. 
“Hey Auntie Rhonda!” I blurted nervously. 
“Hello Emily.” she said surprised to see me.
             “What are you doing out here?” I questioned quickly.  “You made me a promise!”
“I have to meet with a…friend,” she stuttered. “Now hurry home or you’ll be late.”
I turned and ran.  Finally reaching the familiar steps leading up to Aunt Rhonda’s front door, I yanked the handle and yelled, “I’m here!” 
Glancing up the mahogany staircase in search of Leah, thoughts of her mother on the south side raced through my head.  Suddenly I heard footsteps rushing down the stairs.  
“Em,” she squealed excitedly.  “The agent will be here any minute.  I’m so siked!”  
I walked through the living room into the kitchen.  Straight ahead was an island where Leah hopped onto a barstool.  I began to feel panicked.
How could I break it to Leah that I could not allow her mom to adopt me?  It felt like betrayal; however, I couldn’t be adopted by a woman who sold drugs.  Her bad choices would put Leah and me in danger. 
Suddenly flash backs of previous foster homes played in my head like I was watching a documentary about my life.  The beatings they used to give me and the name calling.  I new I could not get myself in this kind of trouble again.
“Leah,” I stammered repeating the conversation as best as I could to the police man.  “I have something to tell you.”
“What is it Em?  You look like you saw a ghost!”
“Leah, your mom…your mom has been selling drugs to make money on the side.”
“What,” cried Leah?  “Are you crazy?  My mom would never! That’s insane!”
“Leah, please listen.  She will be home any minute.  I can prove it to you.”
“When your mom goes into the bathroom to change, we will look in her bag.  If I’m wrong, we will go through with the adoption.  If I’m right, we both have to run away; otherwise, we will be in too much danger.”
“But Em,” Leah exclaimed.  “I can’t just leave my mom!  She would be devastated.”
I explained to Leah that I had already confronted my Aunt Rhonda about her problems.  I went on to tell her how her mom assured me that she would stop, promising me that it would never happen again.  Scared of her fate but determined to learn the truth about her mother, Leah finally agreed to let me prove my story. 
After a few, long, agonizing minutes, Leah’s mom walked in the front door and announced, “I’m home!”
She looked at me intensely and I asked, “Are you ready?”  She nodded. 
Aunt Rhonda rushed up the stairs, blue duffle bag in hand.
“What was in the bag?” the cop blurted out interrupting my story.
“I’m getting there,” I said irritated at the fact that he cut me off. 
In her room she tossed the bag into a corner and headed to the bathroom to freshen up before the adoption agent showed up.
While she was in the bathroom, Leah and I slowly moved into her room in search of the blue duffel bag.  Leah gasped slightly when she spotted it in the corner.  She quickly grabbed the bag, threw it on the bed and ripped the zipper open.
Another gasp and the sound of a slight whimper escaped her throat as Leah drew a bundle of large bills out of the bag.  She then began to rip the rest of the contents out of the bag finally flipping the bag to dump everything at once. 
There on the bed lie four more bundles of money along with various types of drugs. 
Although I knew the truth, I stared in disbelief at the contents that were strewn across the bed.
Just then, Aunt Rhonda came out of the bathroom.  “Girls!” she screamed.
“What is all of this mom?” Leah cried wildly.
“Leah…Emily…I.. I am so sorry.  I meant to stop before the adoption.  Really, I did!”
“Aunt Rhonda, we can’t go through with the adoption.  Not until you get help.  You can’t go on selling drugs.  It’s too dangerous!”
As we stood there staring at each other that is when the fateful ring of the doorbell sounded that I told you about earlier. 
The cop stood up from his chair and stretched as if we were sitting for hours. 
“Thank you for your time, everything will be alright doll,” he murmured in a hoarse smoker’s voice.  Then he left the room. 
After a few weeks we figured out more information on Aunt Rhonda’s case.  Although this was not the fate that I wanted for myself, Aunt Rhonda or Leah, in the end it is probably what was best for all of us.
Aunt Rhonda was arrested.  She had sold drugs earlier that day, on the south side, to an undercover officer who had been investigating her. She claimed that she tried to stop selling but the main guy wouldn’t let her leave his “organization.”  Officer Smith assured her that if she could prove her statement was true, she would probably get a shorter sentence.
That was the last I had seen of my Aunt Rhonda for a while.  Leah and I were picked up by our Grandma Louise that night a little while after my aunt had been taken away.
After explaining to Leah my reasons for keeping my secret about her mom, she came around and forgave me.
Aunt Rhonda served about 6 months’ jail time.  Although she was no longer allowed to adopt and had to give up custody rights for Leah to our grandmother, she was granted the right to take care of me with frequent visits from the Department of Child Services. 
Although she wasn’t allowed to be my mom legally, she was able to prove to myself and Leah that she was capable of caring for us.  That was all the family that I needed.