I took the envelope, my hands trembling as I tore open the seal.

Inside was a stack of legal papers bearing the stamp of the Mecklenburg County Family Court.

I flipped to the first page, my eyes scanning the bold text.

It was an emergency petition for temporary custody.

But it wasn’t from Landon.

It was from Patricia Bellamy, listing her as the sole petitioner.

Attached to the back of the petition was a medical document.

I stared at the letterhead, my heart dropping.

It was a psychiatric evaluation from a clinic I had visited two years ago, after my mother passed away.

Patricia had somehow obtained my private medical records.

“What is it?” Arthur asked, looking over my shoulder.

“She’s using my grief counseling,” I whispered. “She’s claiming I’m unstable.”

“That’s from years ago,” Arthur said, his voice tight. “That has nothing to do with how you care for Rowan.”

“To a judge, it might,” I said, my voice cracking. “She’s painting me as a negligent, depressed mother who fabricated the lockout to hide her own breakdown.”