“Before your little stunt.”

I scanned the document he held out.

The seal was authentic, dated earlier that afternoon.

“This is a probate filing, not a custody ruling,” I said, my mind racing.

“It gives you fiduciary control, not physical custody over abused minors.”

“It gives me the right to decide where they sleep tonight, Miss Vale,” Voss said.

“Hand them over, or I will have the transit police arrest you both for interference.”

Ryker stepped forward, his boots loud on the pavement.

Owen buried his face deeper into Ryker’s neck.

“You are not touching these children,” Ryker said.

His voice was quiet, but it carried a dangerous edge.

“I am their uncle,” Ryker added.

“You are a liability, Ryker,” Voss said.

“Your sister knew that, which is why she left them in my care, not yours.”

I looked at the signature on Voss’s document.

The ink looked fresh, almost too clean.

“We are taking them to a safe location,” I said.

“We will let the family court decide who has jurisdiction in the morning.”

Voss stepped directly into Ryker’s path.