We took our places at the table on the left.

Our attorney, Sarah, was already there, her laptop open and several files spread out.

She gave me a quick, reassuring nod.

“Let the record show that all parties are present,” Judge Vance said.

She laid her pen down with a soft click that sounded like a gunshot in the quiet room.

“We are here on an emergency motion filed by the petitioner, Emily Carter,” the judge continued.

Grant leaned forward, his face twisting into a scowl.

“Your Honor, this is a joke,” Grant said.

“Mr. Whitmore, do not speak out of turn,” Judge Vance warned, her eyes narrowing.

Evelyn reached out and touched her son’s arm, her face a mask of cold fury.

“My client has rights,” their attorney said, standing up.

“Your client has a pending federal inquiry,” Judge Vance countered, her voice dropping an octave.

She picked up a document from the top of her pile.

“I have spent the last two hours reviewing the security logs from the private terminal at Nashville International.”

“The logs clearly show Mr. Whitmore arriving nine minutes before his scheduled flight to Antigua.”