My heart stopped.

“He has a child with him,” she continued, looking down at a notepad in her hand. “A six-year-old girl named Rosemary Carter.”

I let out a sound that was half-sob, half-gasp.

Nathan’s hand immediately found mine under the table, his grip steady and cold.

“He presented a temporary custody order signed by Clerk Higgins,” the officer said. “But the gate agent flagged it because the clerk’s stamp looked irregular.”

Evelyn Whitmore stood up from her seat in the front row of the gallery.

“This is ridiculous,” Evelyn said, her voice sharp and loud. “My son has every right to travel with his daughter.”

Judge Miller banged her gavel once, a sharp crack that echoed off the high plaster ceiling.

“Sit down, Mrs. Whitmore, or I will have you removed by the bailiff,” the judge warned.

Evelyn remained standing for a second, her face flushed red under her makeup, before slowly lowering herself back into her seat.

Beside her, Vanessa Hale looked completely bewildered.

Vanessa leaned toward Evelyn, her voice a hushed but intense whisper.