The rain in Chicago was cold and gray, streaking the tall glass windows of the federal courthouse.

Inside courtroom 402, the air smelled of floor wax and old paper.

Callum Prescott sat at the defense table, his charcoal suit pressed to a sharp edge.

He adjusted his gold cufflinks and smiled at his chief attorney, Martin Voss.

He looked entirely sure of himself.

“This will be over in twenty minutes,” Callum murmured.

Voss nodded, sorting through a stack of neat white folders.

“The judge is conservative,” Voss replied. “She respects the family name.”

At the front of the room, Judge Elaine Mallory adjusted her glasses and looked down from her high bench.

“We are here for the emergency custody petition of the unborn Prescott child,” Judge Mallory said.

Her voice was dry and carried no warmth.

“Where is the mother, Mrs. Avery Prescott?” she asked.

Voss stood up, buttoning his jacket with a practiced hand.

“Your Honor, my client’s wife is currently unwell,” Voss said.

“She is receiving specialized care at a private facility in Wisconsin.”

Callum leaned back, resting his arm on the polished mahogany table.

“We have a signed affidavit from her primary physician, Dr. Whitaker,” Voss continued.

“He confirms that Mrs. Prescott is suffering from severe prenatal psychosis.”

He placed a blue folder on the clerk’s desk.

“She is unfit to make decisions for herself, let alone a newborn,” Voss said.

Judge Mallory did not touch the folder.

She looked at the computer screen on her bench.

“A digital filing was uploaded to the court system five minutes ago,” the judge said.

“It came from an encrypted address.”

Callum’s smile faltered slightly.

“That must be a mistake, Your Honor,” Callum said, his voice losing its easy tone.

“We control all of my wife’s legal representation.”

“The court controls its own docket, Mr. Prescott,” Judge Mallory said.

She nodded to her clerk.

“Play the audio file.”

The overhead speakers hummed, static filling the quiet room.

Then, my voice echoed through the courtroom.

“If you are hearing this, Callum has already lied to the court,” my recorded voice said.

The sound was clear, recorded on a high-quality microphone.