He didn’t look at me when I walked in.

He looked confident, his chin held high.

My attorney, Sarah, sat next to me, her expression grim but determined.

Judge Harlan took her seat at the bench, her black robes rustling.

“We are here to conclude the custody matter of Nolan Bellamy,” Judge Harlan said.

“Your Honor,” Carroway rose, his voice booming in the quiet room. “We have prepared our closing arguments.”

“We believe the school’s reports are biased,” Carroway continued. “And my client remains the only parent with the financial stability to care for the child.”

“Financial stability built on lies, Your Honor,” Sarah said, standing up.

Carroway laughed, a short, dismissive sound.

“Mrs. Bellamy has made various wild allegations throughout this trial,” Carroway said.

“We have new evidence, Your Honor,” Sarah said, ignoring him. “It was recovered last night.”

She stepped forward and handed a manila envelope to the bailiff.

The bailiff passed it up to Judge Harlan.

“This is a desperate attempt to delay these proceedings,” Carroway argued.

“What is this, Sarah?” Judge Harlan asked, opening the envelope.