Grant gripped the edge of his chair, his jaw clenching so hard the muscles jumped.

“Furthermore,” the judge said, “Mr. Bellamy is ordered to pay all back child support, totaling forty-two thousand dollars, immediately.”

He tapped the document with his pen for emphasis.

“He will also be responsible for all court costs and Mrs. Bellamy’s legal fees in their entirety,” Judge Harlan said.

I looked at my mother, who was sitting in the front row of the gallery.

A single tear ran down her lined cheek, but her shoulders were straight and proud.

“The frozen assets will remain frozen until a full forensic audit is completed by the state,” the judge concluded.

He picked up his official seal and pressed it onto the paper with a heavy, solid click.

“This order is effective immediately,” Judge Harlan said. “Mrs. Bellamy, you have full legal authority over your son.”

“Thank you, Your Honor,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“Now, go get your boy,” Judge Harlan said, waving his hand toward the exit. “Bailiff, escort Mrs. Bellamy and Ms. Whitaker to their vehicle.”

I didn’t wait.