“They want my children because they believe the boys can be used to restructure the family trust and shield Vivian from liability.”

I looked over at Garrett, whose head had dropped back into his hands.

“I will not let my sons be used as financial human shields,” I said.

Judge Vance lowered the documents and looked directly at Vivian.

“Mrs. Bradford, do you deny the existence of these accounts?” the judge asked.

Vivian stood up, her posture rigid, her eyes flashing with a cold, desperate anger.

“My family’s private business has no bearing on the welfare of those boys,” Vivian said, her voice sharp.

“It has everything to do with it if you are using trust funds to illegally surveil them,” Judge Vance said.

At the back of the courtroom, the double doors creaked open.

An assistant in a dark suit walked in and quietly handed a document to Harrison, Vivian’s lawyer.

Harrison read the paper, his face losing all of its color.

He leaned down and whispered into Vivian’s ear, his hand trembling slightly.

Vivian’s eyes widened, and she looked back toward the gallery.