“Then why are you worried?”
Daniel looked at her.
“Because Sophie is.”
Nina stopped smiling.
“Okay.”
“She thinks a judge can make her leave.”
“They can’t.”
“I’ve told her.”
“Then perhaps she needs to hear it from someone wearing a robe.”
Daniel frowned.
“You’re joking.”
“No.”
The family-court judge who finalized Sophie’s adoption had retired.
But Nina contacted the current presiding judge and explained the child’s fear.
No special hearing.
No improper private communication.
Instead, the court allowed Sophie to visit during a public educational program for children involved in adoption-support services.
The judge explained what adoption meant.
Permanent legal parent-child relationship.
Not temporary guardianship.
Not a permission slip someone could casually revoke.
Sophie listened.
Then raised her hand.
“What if your first dad changes his mind?”
The judge answered carefully.
“Adults can regret decisions. Regret does not automatically undo them.”
“What if he’s police?”
“Being a police officer does not give someone power over family-court orders.”
Sophie nodded.
Daniel watched something ease inside her.
Afterward she whispered, “I like judges.”
Daniel smiled.
“Your mother did not.”
“Why?”
“She thought they used too many words.”
The judge overheard.
“Your mother sounds wise.”
Daniel laughed.
For the first time in weeks, Sophie laughed too.
Caleb requested to meet Daniel.
Daniel refused.
Then reconsidered.
Not because Rebecca pressured him.
She did the opposite.
“You owe him nothing.”
Daniel knew.
But something bothered him.
Caleb was not Luke.
He had acted wrongly.
Seriously wrongly.
But Daniel had seen the moment his certainty collapsed.
At the bus stop.
The instant Rebecca said the adoption was legal.
That expression was not the face of someone whose plan had failed.
It was the face of someone realizing he had been used.
Daniel agreed to one meeting.
Police union representative present.
Daniel’s attorney present.
No Sophie.
Caleb arrived in civilian clothes.
Without the uniform, he looked younger.
More like Luke.
That irritated Daniel immediately.
They sat across from each other in Nina Patel’s office.
For almost a minute, neither spoke.
Then Caleb said, “I’m sorry.”
Daniel looked at him.
“For which part?”
Caleb swallowed.
“Fair.”
“No. Be specific.”
Caleb nodded.
“For using the database.”
Daniel waited.
“For going to the bus stop.”
Another pause.
“For not turning on my camera.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Caleb looked down.
“Because I knew I wasn’t there on official business.”
That answer mattered.
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“So you knew.”
“Yes.”
“And wore the uniform anyway.”
“Yes.”
“Carried a gun.”
“Yes.”