"Miss Claire?" Her voice had been small, groggy from the pain medication. "Are you still here?"
"Still here." I had squeezed her fingers gently. "Where else would I be?"
"I thought you left. People leave sometimes."
I wished I could take the little girl’s emotional pains away, "I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
It was a promise I'd meant with every fiber of my being. I just didn't know what keeping it would cost me.
Now it was Friday morning, the emergency custody hearing, and I was standing in front of my bathroom mirror in what I mentally called my "please take me seriously" dress. Navy blue. Conservative cut. I looked like someone auditioning to be a Supreme Court judge.
Spoiler: it wasn't going to be enough.
The courtroom was smaller than I'd imagined, all dark wood and worn leather. The smell of lemon polish and ruined marriages irradiated the air. Reporters sat in the back rows. Apparently, custody battles involving billionaires attracted media vultures. I kept my head down as I walked to my seat.
Nathaniel was already at the plaintiff's table with Miles Cameron, his posture rigid, his face a mask of controlled intensity. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. He probably hadn't. Victoria sat at the other table with her lawyer, a sharp-faced woman whose nameplate readAtty. Diane Rossi. She had the smile of someone who enjoyed pulling wings off butterflies.
Victoria herself looked pale but composed, the picture of wronged dignity. She didn't look at me.
I took my seat in the gallery, my palms already sweating. The threat pulsed in my memory like a heartbeat.Back off if you know what's good for you.
"Claire Cross to the stand, please."
My legs felt like water as I walked to the witness box. The oath felt like a lie before I even spoke it.
Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?
"I do."
Miles approached, his tone respectful and guiding. "Miss Cross, can you describe how you first came to know the Sterling family?"
"Millie, their daughter, showed up at my apartment during a rainstorm. She'd run away from home."
"And what did she tell you about why she'd run away?"
"She said her aunt… her stepmother, Victoria, told her that her father didn't love her and wouldn't care if she disappeared."
A murmur rippled through the courtroom. Miles nodded. "And in your time working as Millie's tutor, did you witness Mrs. Sterling's treatment of her stepdaughter?"
Here it was. The moment.
My throat closed. The threat screamed in my head.Every diagnosis, every weakness...
"I... witnessed some tension," I managed.
Miles's brow furrowed. "Can you be more specific? What did you observe?"
"Mrs. Sterling was sometimes... cold. Dismissive."
"Miss Cross, we discussed specific incidents. The evening of Millie's school recital, for instance. What exactly did you hear Mrs. Sterling say to Millie in her bedroom?"
I gripped the edge of the witness box. "I don't recall the exact words."
"You don't recall?" Miles's voice held genuine confusion. "You told me specifically that Mrs. Sterling said?—"
