“This is a waste of your time.”

“The emergency custody order has already been signed by Judge Miller.”

“The boys are being removed from the estate as we speak.”

“No, they are not,” Arthur said, stepping between them.

“I have already filed a stay of execution based on newly discovered evidence.”

“The judge is waiting for us.”

The heavy oak door swung open, and a court clerk gestured us inside.

The judge’s chambers were small, lined with rows of leather-bound legal volumes.

Judge Miller sat behind a large mahogany desk, her spectacles resting on the bridge of her nose.

She looked tired, but her eyes were incredibly sharp.

“Sit down, please,” the judge said, gesturing to the chairs.

We took our seats, the leather squeaking under our weight.

“We are here on an emergency petition to stay the custody transfer of Lucas and Owen Whitmore,” the judge began.

“Mr. Vance, your clients argue that Mr. Whitmore has abandoned his duties and that the children are in danger.”

“That is correct, Your Honor,” Vance said, standing up.