Their Sister, Not Their Mother
“Mrs. Miller. Who is watching your other five children right now?”
Lydia’s mouth opened. Nothing came out. The color vanished from her skin, leaving her looking like a wax statue.
“Who is watching the infants, Mrs. Miller?” Davis repeated, unhooking the radio from her shoulder.
“They’re… they’re sleeping,” Lydia stammered, stepping backward. “They’re fine. I locked the doors. It’s only been an hour. I just needed to come get the babysitter.”
“You locked five children, including infants, inside a house with no supervision?” Davis demanded, already keying her radio. “Dispatch, I need a priority CPS unit and a patrol car to 442 Elm Street immediately.
Potential child endangerment and abandonment. Minor children locked inside a residence unattended.”