“My ego is indestructible,” Woody shouted, thrusting her controller in the air.
“Your ego is definitely something,” Shay said, and everyone laughed.
They played for another hour, the energy lighter. Shay kept the mood upbeat, cracking jokes and trash-talking with Woody in a way that had everyone in stitches. At one point, she turned to Janie and said, “You know, if your mom tries anything in court, I’m happy to testify about what a badass lawyer you are. What you’re doing for Rosie is scary good.”
Janie’s cheeks flushed. “You think?”
Shay nodded. “Your mom’s lawyers have no idea who they’re up against.”
Solo watched Janie’s face transform: she sat up a little straighter, and some of that lawyer confidence crept back in. Solo smiled at Shay and raised her bottle. She always knew exactly what someone needed to hear and how to say it.
Around ten, Janie’s phone rang. She looked at the screen and went pale. “It’s David.” The room went silent as Janie put it on speaker. “David. What is it?”
“I’ve reviewed the motion,” David said after half apologizing for the late call. “Your mother’s uncovered the ER incident. She’s requesting temporary custody until the hearing.”
His words hit Solo like a sucker punch. “How? Aren’t those records supposed to be confidential?”
“They are,” David said. “But no doubt she has investigators who’ll do anything to get the information they need.”
“What do we do?” Janie asked, her voice shaky.
“We fight it. I’ve already drafted our response. But you need to be prepared. There’s going to be an emergency hearing onMonday morning. The judge will hear both sides and make a ruling on temporary custody.”
“Monday,” Janie whispered. “Two days.”
“I’ll email you both the details tonight. In the meantime, document everything. Your routines with the girls, Carmen’s schedule, therapy appointments. Show stability and consistency.”
After David hung up, the room stayed deathly still. Solo looked at Janie’s stricken face, then at her crew.
“So,” Woody finally said, her usual levity replaced by something harder. “Monday. That means we have a couple of days to make sure you’re ready to show that judge you’re the best fucking parents those girls could ask for.”
“We’ll all be there,” RB added quietly. “Whatever you need.”
Shay stood up, and Solo saw that look on her face, the same one Gabe got when she was planning a mission. They’d been friends long enough to think alike in almost all situations, but especially ones like this.
“Okay,” Shay said. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Tonight, Solo and Janie go home and get some sleep. Tomorrow, we help them document everything. We’ll come over, take photos, help organize records, whatever they need. Sunday, we do a practice run, where you,” she pointed at Solo, “are going to practice staying calm and confident under pressure. Monday morning, we show up to that courthouse, and we don’t let them take those babies.”
Rosie got up to stand beside Shay. “You’ll walk into that courtroom with an army behind you.”
“Damn right,” Lori said softly, and Gabe squeezed her hand.
Janie was crying now, and Solo pulled her close. They were surrounded by their people, their army, and even though everything was kind of falling apart, there was something steady beneath the fear.
They weren’t alone. They were never alone.
In the car driving home, Solo reached over and took Janie’s hand. “We’re going to win this,” she said, trying to convinceherself as much as Janie. “We have to.”
But Janie just stared out the window at the passing lights, her hand limp. “What if we don’t?” she finally whispered. “What if Monday morning, a judge decides I’m unfit? That we’re unstable? What if I have to watch my daughters get taken away by my mother?”
Solo didn’t have an answer. She just gripped Janie’s hand tighter and drove them home, toward their sleeping children, toward whatever the next few days would bring.
Two days. They had two days to save their family.
And Solo had never been more terrified in her life.
CHAPTER 24
Janie had thrownup twice before they even left the house Monday morning. The first time was right after she got out of the shower, the anxiety hitting her so hard she barely made it to the toilet. The second was after she’d gotten dressed in her most conservative navy suit, the go-to one she wore to court when she needed to project competence and stability, and realized her hands were shaking too badly to fasten the buttons. She got there in plenty of time, but splash-back on her suit forced a change of outfit.
