“Nathan, did you pay off her debts to buy custody?” another yelled.

Nathan had stepped out first, blocking the wind and the flashing cameras with his broad shoulders.

He had taken my hand, his fingers steady despite the chaos.

“Walk straight, Emily,” he had told me, his voice low and calm.

“Do not look at them.”

His security guard had cleared a path through the shouting crowd, pushing us through the heavy bronze doors of the courthouse.

But the silence of the marble hallways had felt just as hostile as the crowd outside.

Now, sitting in the courtroom, that same heavy atmosphere pressed down on my chest.

Grant sat across the aisle, his face pale but a smug smile playing on his lips.

His lead attorney, Richard Vance, was still staring at the tablet the young woman had brought in.

“Your Honor,” Vance said, standing up quickly before the judge could speak.

His voice lacked its usual booming confidence.

“We have a preliminary matter that requires a brief recess.”

Judge Miller adjusted his glasses and looked over his desk.

“We haven’t even called the case, Mr. Vance,” the judge said.