Cora gave me a pointed look with an eyebrow arching as she stared at me. I could see in her eyes that she wanted to argue, but she also knew I was right. “This isn’t over. We are going to talk about this. You can’t keep going like that.”
She rolled to her feet and stood, extending her hand to me. I took it, letting her pull me up from the couch.
“Go shower,” I said. “I’ll make coffee and see if Thomas is up. We should leave by eight thirty to be safe.”
She started toward the stairs, then turned back. “Jason?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for being stubborn and coming with me.”
Before I could respond, she was heading upstairs, leaving me standing there, wondering how I was supposed to let her go after this was all over.
Chapter Eight
CORA
The Valle Perdido County Courthouselooked like something out of an old Western movie, all red brick and limestone with tall windows that probably hadn’t been updated since the 1950s. My heels clicked against the worn marble floors as Jason, Thomas, and I made our way through the metal detectors.
Thomas wasn’t thrilled he’d had to leave his multitude of personal safety equipment locked in the SUV—namely the two guns, and the knife he typically had hidden in his clothing. I’d been tempted to ask where, but decided against it.
“Guardianship hearings are in Courtroom B,” the security guard said, pointing down a hallway lined with faded photographs of former judges.
My stomach churned with each step. In ten minutes, I’d be standing in front of Judge Martinez, fighting for the right to raise my nephew. The baby I’d held for only a few hours but already loved more than life itself.
“You’ve got this,” Jason murmured, his hand warm on my lower back as we approached the heavy wooden doors marked Courtroom B.
I took a deep breath and pushed through the doors. The courtroom was smaller than I’d expected, with maybe fifty seats divided by a center aisle. Dark wood paneling covered the walls, and an American flag hung behind the judge’s bench. A few people were scattered in the gallery, mostly what looked like other cases waiting their turn.
A wooden railing separated the gallery from the front of the courtroom, where two empty tables faced the judge’s bench.
Jason, Thomas, and I took seats in the front row. A few rows behind us, I spotted Colter in what was probably the only suit he owned. His hair was slicked back, and he’d even trimmed his beard. He looked… respectable. Nothing like the abuser I knew him to be.
And sitting beside him was Beau Stanton, shuffling through legal papers with the confidence of someone who owned this courtroom.
I figured Colter would either use legal aid or something. Never in my wildest imagination did I expect him to show up with a lawyer like Beau Stanton. I didn’t have to know his fee to know he was expensive.
A low growl came from Jason beside me. He leaned in. “Why am I not surprised…”
Yep, lipstick meet pig. At least the snake was out of the hole, so to speak.
Before I could fully process what I was seeing, a side door opened and a stern-looking woman in black robes entered. She had silver hair pulled back in a neat bun and sharp eyes that seemed to take in everything at once.
“All rise,” the bailiff announced. “The Honorable Judge Sofia Martinez presiding over the 394th District Court.”
The few people scattered throughout the courtroom stood. Jason’s presence next to me kept my unsteady legs grounded.
Judge Martinez took her seat behind the bench and gestured for everyone else to sit. “Court is now in session.” She shuffled through some papers before looking up. “Case number 2025-CV-1847, in the matter of guardianship of Elias Williams, minor child of deceased Maya Williams.”
My stomach dropped as she continued. “Counsel and parties to this case, please approach your respective tables.”
This was it. I had to walk up there alone.
I stood on shaking legs and made my way through the gate in the railing. My heels echoed in the suddenly quiet courtroom as I took my seat to the right. Behind me, I heard Beau and Colter, and glanced at them as they took their seats to the left. The distance between me and Jason felt like a chasm now, even though he was only a few feet away behind the railing.
Judge Martinez picked up a file from her desk and opened it. She looked up over her reading glasses. “Counsel, please state your appearances for the record.”
Beau’s folksy demeanor was gone. “Beauregard Stanton appearing on behalf of petitioner Colter Briggs, Your Honor.” The way he said it made Colter sound like an upstanding citizen. It was sickening.
