Judge Norwood scratched his temple with his pen, looking down at the copy of the lease Ammani had handed the bailiff moments earlier. "Ms. Boon," he said carefully, "is there anything in this document that is inaccurate?"
Celeste hesitated. "No, but I didn't mean to mislead anyone. I just didn't think it would be a problem. I've made space for her."
"With a curtain separating the bed from the kitchen?" Ammani asked, more out of curiosity than spite.
Celeste sighed and looked away. That was the thing about silence: it didn't always mean guilt, but sometimes it was louder than any confession.
Judge Norwood shifted gears. "Ammani," he said, "you've clearly done your homework. You're very impressive, but what about the emotional side of this? Isn't it possible that your aunt deserves a chance to reconnect with her family?"
Ammani nodded. "Yes, but reconnecting doesn't mean uprooting. It means visiting, calling, sending cards, even when there's no court date coming up."
That landed harder than she expected. Celeste's lips parted slightly like she wanted to argue, but she couldn't.
Ammani continued, "I know people say blood is thicker than water, but water keeps me alive. I don't need people who look like me; I need people who see me."
That was the moment Deborah started crying full-on, no apology. Stan just reached over and pulled her close.
Ror finally stood up. "Your Honor, this has become an emotional showcase, not a legal hearing. I understand the child is articulate, but this isn't about speeches. It's about facts and capability."
Norwood didn't even look at him. "She just gave us both."
Ammani sat back, folding her hands again. She looked at the judge calmly. "May I ask one more question, Your Honor?"
He nodded.
"Truth or lie?" she said. "You ever had to grow up before you were ready?"
Norwood stared at her. He didn't answer with words; he just gave a long, heavy blink and looked down at the desk. But what he didn't say told Ammani everything she needed to know.