“Did you think you could use my visit to Michael’s house last weekend as part of your complaint without the county asking me to come in?” Oh, I liked Kevin. The next time I saw him at the diner, I’d have to buy him a piece of pie. It was obvious to everyone he wasn’t taking Jack’s shit.
“James Davis?” A clerk stepped into the hall, her eyes widening as she took in the spectacle before her.
“Y-yes?” James stammered.
“The judge is ready to see you.” The clerk gestured toward the door, her posture stiff.
A deafening silence fell over the group, the air thick with tension as we processed her words. We were heading into the lion’s den with Jack and his unfounded accusations waiting to pounce.
I squeezed Billy’s hand, exchanging a look with him before turning to James. “Alright. Remember what we talked about, okay? Stick to the truth and don’t let him rattle you. We’ve got this.”
James nodded, mustering up a shaky smile. He straightened his back, the stoic mask slipping back onto his face as he prepared to face his father’s lies head-on. I admired his courage.
“Everything will be fine.” Billy gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, earning a small nod from the boy.
As we followed James and the clerk down the sterile corridor, I couldn’t help but glance back at Jack. His face was flushed a deep shade of red, the veins in his neck bulging as he continued his standoff with Kevin.
I pulled my gaze away, focusing on the task at hand. The echo of our footsteps in the austere hallway sounded like a drumbeat, each footfall a declaration of our resolve to fight for our family.
Upon reaching the conference room where the hearing was to take place, we took our seats, the room heavy with the impending decision that could either tear us apart or bind us closer together. The dull murmur of conversation was quickly hushed as the judge entered, his stern gaze scanning over the occupants of the room.
The room fell silent as Judge Gaither cleared his throat, skimming over the papers in front of him before he began. “We are here to address a complaint received about the current living arrangements of James Davis. According to the complaint, James has not been staying at the primary residence of William Langston as stipulated by the court.”
The judge paused, his gaze scanning over the room. “This is not customary and under normal circumstances could warrant a reassessment of his placement. However, it is my understanding these are not normal circumstances.”
I felt a prickle of anticipation. We’d been expecting the hammer to fall, yet Judge Gaither indicated there might be more at play than the standard procedure.
“Given the age of the minor involved in this case, I’d like to hear from James before making a decision. This hearing is ultimately about what’s best for him, and his input is crucial.”
All eyes turned toward James as he looked up, surprisingly composed under the spotlight. He swallowed visibly, then took a deep breath before he began to speak.
“I want to stay with Billy. And with Michael,” he said, his voice stronger than I expected.
“And why is that, James?” The judge's voice was gentle, encouraging.
“Oh, come on.” Jack sneered. His wife, Celine, had the audacity to reach for him. Not only did he shake off her touch, but the look he gave her had me wondering what he was like in private if he showed this level of toxicity in front of a member of the court. “You can’t expect me to sit here and allow you to give a child the ability to dictate what’s best for him. They—they’re—”
“That is quite enough from you, Mr. Davis,” the judge admonished him. “If you speak out of turn again, I will find you in contempt.”
“I’m hisfather,” Jack protested, as if that meant anything right then.
“And I will speak to you when it’s time.” The judge looked over the top of his glasses. “Right now, I would like to hear from James. Now, please continue. Why do you feel staying with William is in your best interests?”
I noticed he left my name out of the question. That was for the best since them staying at my house was the reason we were here.
“Because… Because they—he—cares about me.” James's voice was sincere. “Billy and Michael listen to me, and they respect me. They've given me a home and a family when I felt like I didn't have either. They don't see me as a problem to be solved, but as a person.”
“And do you feel safe where you currently reside, James?”
James looked at us then, his gaze filled with absolute certainty. “Yes, sir. I do. For the first time, I get to be a regular kid.”
“Would you feel safe if you were to be relocated?”
James hesitated before shaking his head. “No. I—I feel like Billy's home is my home. I feel safe there, and I feel loved. I don’t want to be shuffled around, because not every family will be like them.”
There was a silence as the judge nodded, jotting down notes. “I see,” he finally said. “Your statement has been taken into account. Thank you, James.”
As James slid lower in his seat, I felt a lump forming in my throat. His words had been heartfelt, his testimony authentic. If anything could sway the judge, it would be his unvarnished truth.
