Naomi sat beside me at the defense table, arranging her neat manila folders.

Grant sat across the aisle, wearing a drab orange jumpsuit.

His hair was unwashed, and his shoulders slumped.

He did not look at me.

Brielle sat in the third row of the gallery, wearing a plain gray sweater, her bare fingers resting on her lap.

The judge, a stern woman with steel-gray hair, looked over her spectacles.

“Mr. Holloway,” the judge said, her voice echoing in the high-ceilinged room. “You have entered a plea of guilty to bank fraud, identity theft, and grand larceny.”

Grant nodded once, his eyes fixed on the mahogany table.

“Speak up, sir,” the judge ordered.

“Yes, Your Honor,” Grant muttered, his voice cracking.

“The court finds the pre-nuptial agreement valid and unaltered,” the judge continued. “The forged documents attempting to transfer the Langley trust are null and void.”

I felt Naomi’s hand touch my forearm, a reassuring squeeze.

“Furthermore,” the judge said, “sole legal and physical custody of the minor child, Evelyn Langley, is awarded to the mother, Colonel Tessa Langley.”

Grant closed his eyes.