At the grocery store, Joanne let the kids wander through the aisles while she filled the cart with clothes, basic necessities, and enough food to last them a week. When she was sure they weren't listening, she pulled out her phone and called James.
"I have the Walsh kids," she said, her voice low.
James didn't sound surprised. "How bad is it?"
"Bruises, dirt, hunger," she murmured, watching the children examine a row of cereal boxes. "No open wounds, at least not on the girls. I don't know about Tim. He won't let me see."
James cursed under his breath. "Damn it… Their aunt was supposed to take them."
"I know." Joanne sighed. "But they're terrified of being split up. They won't go to a shelter."
James was quiet for a long moment. Then he exhaled.
"I'll talk to their aunt. See what I can do. But Joanne, you know this isn't exactly legal, right?"
