Hannah turned and gave her a small, tight smile. “We’re going to get through this.”
The court officer called them to order, and everyone else settled into the gallery seats.
“Remember,” David said, looking at Hannah, “this isn’t a full hearing. It’s just an emergency motion to determine temporary custody while the main case is pending.”
Janie arched her eyebrow and meant it this time. “Just” felt like a joke when a negative outcome would mean her daughters being ripped away from them.
Judge Morrison entered, her sharp eyes and expression giving away nothing. A small sprig of hope fluttered in Janie’s stomach; surely a Black female judge would be more sympathetic to the challenges they faced, more understanding of?—
Don’t be stupid. That was her mother’s kind of thinking, making assumptions based on demographics. Judge Morrison would rule based on the law and the evidence. Nothing more, and nothing less.
“This is an emergency motion for temporary custody filed by Angela Evans, maternal grandmother of,” Judge Morrison glanced at her notes, “Tia, Luna, and Chloe Rogers-Evans, currently in the custody of their parents, Hannah Rogers and Janie Evans.”
Hearing the girls’ full names, so formal and legal, made Janie’s chest hurt. They were her babies, not cold names on a legal document.
“Ms. Bradford,” Judge Morrison said, looking at Angela’s lawyer. “You have the floor.”
Bradford stood with a confidence that came from years of winning, and Janie fought to control the bile rising from herroiling guts. She would be confident too, confident that her girls belonged with her and Hannah.
“Your Honor, my client filed this emergency motion due to credible concerns about the safety and wellbeing of her granddaughters. The parents have been separated for over a month, during which time, one parent, Janie Evans, abandoned the family home and the children. While Mrs. Evans has recently begun staying at the home on what appears to be an ad-hoc basis, there is no consistent, stable living arrangement.”
Hannah gripped Janie’s hand hard under the table, making her hiss. David shot them a worried side glance.
“Furthermore,” Bradford said, “there is evidence of serious neglect. Last month, one of the children ingested medication while under Mrs. Evans’ supervision, requiring emergency medical treatment. While the child recovered, this incident was never reported to my client, suggesting a pattern of hiding dangerous situations.” Bradford pulled out documents and handed copies to the bailiff, who passed them to the judge and to David.
“We don’t have to report anything toher,” Hannah muttered, and David shot her a warning look.
“Finally, Your Honor, both parents are engaged in demanding careers that make adequate childcare challenging. While they have hired help, the instability of their relationship, combined with Mrs. Evans’ recent abandonment of the home and history of neglectful supervision, creates an unsafe environment for three toddlers. My client is simply seeking temporary custody to ensure the children’s safety while the court determines long-term arrangements.”
Bradford sat down, looking pleased with herself, and Janie wanted to scream. While almost everything Bradford had said was technically true, it was completely devoid of context. She’d weaponized facts, twisting them into a narrative that painted Janie as neglectful and Hannah as overwhelmed.
“Mr. Adams,” Judge Morrison said, looking at David.
David stood and adjusted his tie. Sharp, precise, and ready for battle. She’d seen him do it a hundred times.
“Your Honor, Ms. Bradford’s characterization is not only misleading but borders on malicious. Let’s address each claim in turn.” David pulled out his own stack of documents. “First, the separation. Yes, Mrs. Evans moved out of the family home in early September while dealing with postpartum depression. But she remained in constant contact with her children, continued to provide financial support, and has been actively working on her marriage through couples therapy. She hasn’t ‘abandoned’ anyone, least of all her children. She’s a mother dealing with a medical condition who took temporary space to get help.” He handed some documents to the court officer. “Here are records from their therapist confirming regular appointments, and a letter from Mrs. Rogers-Evans’ physician documenting her diagnosis and treatment plan for postpartum depression.”
Janie ignored the spark of shame at her diagnosis being spoken out loud and in public so freely. She had to accept it was nothing to be ashamed of, or she’d never emerge from under its vast, dark influence.
“Second, the ER incident,” David said softly and glanced at Janie with a sympathetic smile. “Yes, there was an incident where one child ingested a small amount of children’s Tylenol. Mrs. Evans responded immediately and appropriately by taking the child to the emergency room. The ER report shows no finding of neglect. The physician noted that the mother was ‘appropriate and concerned throughout’ and that this was an accidental ingestion requiring no treatment beyond an activated charcoal administration.” He paused to let that sink in. “The parents subsequently improved all childproofing measures and hired professional help. Clearly, this isn’t evidence of neglect. It’s evidence of responsible parenting. They learned from a close call and took action to prevent future incidents.”
Janie caught Hannah’s gaze and gave her a tight smile. God, how she wished they hadn’t run out of childproof locks just asthey’d gotten to the bathroom they’d reassigned for the girls.
“Finally, the claim of demanding careers and inadequate childcare. Your Honor, Mrs. Hannah Rogers is an equal partner in a successful automotive customization and repair business, and Mrs. Janie Evans is an attorney in private practice. Both have structured their work schedules to prioritize their children. They’ve hired a full-time nanny, Carmen Reyes, who I’ll be calling as a witness, and they have a strong support system,” he gestured to their chosen family in the gallery, “which is evident from the number of people who’ve shown up today to testify on their behalf.”
Janie and Hannah checked over their shoulders, and both of them smiled at their assembled army.
“This emergency motion is not about protecting children,” David said, his voice hardening. “It’s about my client’s mother attempting to gain control of a substantial trust fund established by her own mother for these children. Mrs. Angela Evans was passed over for that inheritance in favor of her daughter—my client—and is now using the legal system to try to access those funds through her granddaughters.”
Bradford shot to her feet. “Objection! That’s a baseless accusation?—”
“I have documentation,” David said. “Mrs. Angela Evans attempted to contest her mother’s will a number of years ago and lost. The trust is ironclad and managed by Mrs. Janie Evans for the benefit of the children until they turn eighteen. However, if Mrs. Angela Evans were to gain custody, she would control those assets as the children’s guardian.”
Judge Morrison held up a hand. “I’ll review the documentation. Ms. Bradford, unless you have evidence to contradict Mr. Adams’ claims, I suggest you sit down.”
Bradford sat, but her expression was thunderous, and her previous confidence seemed to have slipped away.
“I’d like to call my first witness,” David said. “Carmen Reyes.”
