The Child Comes First Read Online Free Page A

of discomfort. “I yelled at him to stop. But he kept doing it and hitting me with the truck. I don’t remember touching him or anything. I might have pushed him away, though. He just started whining—like this.” She made a keening sound, high and loud. As she imitated the boy she rocked back and forth, and Simon assumed this was what Derek had done.
    â€œThen he sat down hard on his butt. His eyes looked funny. He just sat there. After a minute, he fell over and he didn’t get up. His eyes were open but he wouldn’t say anything, even when I tugged on his arm and leg. I was freaked out.”
    She’d had good reason to be, Simon thought. Tiffany was now charged with Derek’s murder. If she was telling the truth, she hadn’t done it. If she was lying…It didn’t really matter one way or the other, because guilty or not Simon always made certain his clients got every last ounce of fairness.
    â€œHad you done anything else to him? Touched Derek in any way so that he fell over?” he asked.
    She looked up into his eyes. Hers were glistening, her expression hurt, frightened. Or she gave a very good imitation of those emotions. “No, I didn’t make him fall over.”
    Simon could detect no hint of a lie, but Tiffany also hadn’t answered his question about whether she’d done anything to him.
    Jayda shot him a reproachful glare, then turned her focus back to Tiffany. “What did you do when Derek wouldn’t respond?” she prodded.
    â€œI could tell he wasn’t breathing right. So I got on the floor next to him and tried to sit him up. Miss Hester came home when I was holding him from behind.” She bowed her arms outward, as if she still held the other child by his armpits. “I might have been crying because I knew something bad was happening. And I figured I’d get the blame. Miss Hester yelled at me to leave him alone, so I dropped him and jumped away.” She winced and ducked her head, as she added, “He fell back onto the floor, all limp—I could hear his head hit. I was crying,” she repeated. And she was crying now, Simon realized. Huge tears welled in her brown eyes and then rolled down her cheeks.
    Sitting with Tiffany Thompson in this dingy room, Simon found himself wishing he could trade in a bunch of his past acquittals won on obscure legal technicalities for the verdict this young girl seemed to deserve. But then he reminded himself that Tiffany could just be an accomplished actress. He’d seen it before, though not in anyone quite so young. Holding back his judgment about her would be best. He didn’t want to be surprised to find out she’d been lying all along.
    Jayda offered a tissue from her purse, but Tiffany slapped away her hand, preferring to swipe at the dampness with a sleeve. Jayda’s eyes closed momentarily, as if searching inside for patience. “I know you’re upset, Tiffany, but you shouldn’t take it out on people who want to help you.” The social worker’s expression was a study in compassion.
    â€œNo one’s helped me so far,” the girl whispered bitterly.
    Uncomfortable, Simon looked down at his client’s folder. Tiffany’s reaction to kindness reminded him pointedly of his first weeks in his foster parents’ home. It had been so hard to accept the fact that he was safe and that his security was more than fleeting. Tiffany’s rudeness to her guardian reminded Simon of those difficult times, triggering recollections he hadn’t thought about in many years and would have preferred to leave buried.
    â€œLet’s go over some basic things,” he suggested, hoping to quell Tiffany’s anger, Jayda’s frustration and his own memories. “The man who works for the government—he’s called the prosecutor. He’s going to try to convince a group of people called the jury that you killed Derek on