"I know."
"But everyone leaves." The words were barely audible, slurred with approaching sleep. "Everyone always leaves."
I sat there long after she drifted off, her words echoing in the sterile silence. The stuffed sloth Claire had brought was tucked under her good arm, its confused expression somehow appropriate. My daughter was seven years old, and she'd already learned that people couldn't be trusted to stay.
Mrs. Lee arrived at eight, settling into the visitor's chair with her knitting. She took one look at my face and sighed.
"You need to eat something before court, Mr. Sterling."
"I'm fine."
"You're not fine. You're running on coffee and guilt." She pulled a granola bar from her bag and held it out. "Eat. Millie needs you functional, not collapsed."
I took the bar. "She asked about Claire again."
"She asks about Claire every time she's awake." Mrs. Lee’s needles clicked steadily. "That young woman made quite an impression."
"She made an impression on all of us."
Mrs. Lee looked at me over her glasses, her expression knowing. "Then perhaps you should tell her that. Instead of hiding behind severance packages and silence."
"I'm not hiding. I'm giving her space."
"Hmm." The sound was deeply skeptical. "Is that what you're calling it?"
I didn't have an answer. I finished the granola bar, kissed Millie's forehead, and left for the courthouse. Mrs. Lee’s judgment followed me out the door.
The courthouse steps were a gauntlet.
Reporters shouted questions the moment my car door opened. Cameras flashed like strobes. The media circus had only intensified since Victoria's viral meltdown outside the hospital; the footage of her screaming at Claire had been played on every news channel, dissected by every talking head.
"Mr. Sterling! Do you expect to win full custody today?"
"How do you respond to claims that you're a controlling husband?"
"Is it true Claire Cross has been living at your residence?"
I kept my head down and pushed through. James and Miles met me at the security checkpoint, his expression grimly focused.
"How are you feeling?" James asked as we walked toward the courtroom.
"Like I want this to be over."
"It will be. Today." Miles remarked, handing me a folder. "The custody hearing is first, Judge Flores presiding. Then we move to Courtroom B for the criminal sentencing. JudgeHarrison. Different proceedings, same outcome, Victoria loses everything."
"You sound confident."
"I am confident. Her hospital stunt destroyed whatever sympathy she might have had left. The footage of her attacking Claire has been viewed forty million times." Miles allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. "She buried herself. We're just here to shovel the dirt."
The courtroom was already filling when we entered. I took my seat at the plaintiff's table, my back straight, my hands steady on the polished wood. Control. That's what I needed. Control over my breathing, my expression, my racing heart.
Victoria's table was empty. I didn't look at it.
"All rise for the Honorable Judge Maria Flores."
The judge entered, a woman in her sixties with silver hair and eyes that had seen every variation of human cruelty that family court could produce. She settled into her seat and surveyed the room.
"Be seated. We are here today for the matter of Sterling versus Sterling, petition for divorce and full custody of the minor child, Millie Sterling." She opened a folder. "I have reviewed the evidence extensively. Before I deliver my ruling, does either party wish to make a final statement?"
