Why did it have to be a little girl?
Pat had had a daughter of her own before her wife died. Unfit mother they’d called her, then.
Single mother of a Gifted child, not a regular church-goer, too busy being a hard-working detective and bringing in the family income to be a “proper” mother to a Gifted child. Yeah, right.
Would have been a different story if she’d been a Lay Preacher, but Pat just wasn’t that religious.
And that was the problem, if everyone concerned were going to be honest about it. The Church didn’t like one of the Gifted being in the hands of someone who couldn’t give a rats arse about religion; that would be her hands.
So the Church had demanded their Rights of Rematrination.
Unfit mother, they’d called her.
They’d been right, too, at the time.
Pat hadn’t been coping well with Leigh’s death, work had been getting on top of her, and she’d been leaving her daughter in day care way too much…
Still. It grated.
It grated even more when, a few months later, after intensive councelling and a shift in workload, she was able to ask the Church for a reversal of their rematrination decision.
The Church, of course, refused.
She’d fought, and she’d lost.
She’d lost her little girl.
Pat brought her reverie to a close and her attention back to the case.
These guys had fought, too. Fought the rematrination of their daughter and won.
Two years later, this.
Mysterious ailment. Cause of death: unknown. No suspicious circs, except the damned suspicious circs!
Couldn’t report it that way, of course. Couldn’t even say it out loud if she wanted to remain on the force, let alone on the case.
Damn. Why did it have to be a little girl?