You haven't legally changed it back yet. I filed the paperwork last week. His gaze darted to mine. It was the first crack of the morning.
Sloan recovered faster. Last names don't matter. What matters is a stable environment for Lilia. I almost laughed.
Apparently, stability was showing up to family court with the other woman and trying to take a baby from the mother who had slept beside her crib every night since she was born. But I had promised hope I wouldn't give them anything they could use against me. So, I just adjusted Lilia's hat. Julian glanced at my diaper bag.
It was canvas, gray, and practical. One side pocket held a bottle. The other held folded medical records, copies of vaccination charts, and a flash drive sealed in a plastic evidence bag. He saw none of that.
He saw a tired woman holding a baby. All right, you came alone, he said, his voice soft. I looked at him. Really?
His lips curved into something close to pity. Please don't make a scene. I know your father hasn't spoken to you in years. Your friends are tired.
You quit your job. You don't have the support system you need. I felt Lilia's fingers uncurl for a moment against my sweater. The hallway blurred into another room.
Another night when Julian had stood over me while I sat on the nursery floor surrounded by unopened packages of diapers. You can't think straight, he had said. Then you need me. I had believed him then because when you're exhausted, a cage can feel like a shelter.
Now I just heard the strategy. No support, no money, no emotional stability, no chance. Sloan moved closer, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. You don't have to lose everything today.
Julian is still willing to be generous. I looked at her hand on Julian's sleeve. Generous with what? The marital funds he used to pay your rent.
Julian's face hardened. Careful. The word dropped between us like an old threat. I'd heard it before.
Careful when I asked why he put a password on his phone. Careful when I questioned a hotel receipt. Careful when I cried after he missed Lilia's first pediatrician visit and he'd said I was making fatherhood unpleasant for him before. Careful meant stop before I punish you emotionally.
Today it meant nothing. Behind me, Hope's heels clicked on the floor. "Ira, " she said, her voice calm. She was wearing a dark green suit and the kind of posture that made aggressive men lower their tone.
She didn't look at Julian first. She looked at Lilia, then at me. Everything is ready. Yes.
Marcus Rhodes smiled. Hope always with the last minute filing drama. Hope gave him a polite look. Only when the other side withholds material facts.
Julian's eyes narrowed. What facts? You'll hear them when the judge does, Hope said. Sloan let out a light laugh.
Too breezy. This seems so unnecessary. We're all adults here. Hope finally turned to her.
Miss Vaughn, you are not a party to this custody matter. Color rose and Sloan's cheeks beneath her makeup. Julian stepped in. She's here as my support and potentially as a character witness.
Hope replied, "In that case, I'd recommend she be careful. " There was that word again, careful. Only this time, it was pointed the other way.
The courtroom doors opened. A clerk called our case, Callaway versus Barlo, for determination of child residency and temporary visitation. My name sounded strange apart from his, like something cleanly severed with a blade. Julian moved first, guiding Sloan toward the door.
Marcus followed. Before she went in, Sloan looked over her shoulder and said, "Lilia deserves a whole family. " I looked down at my daughter. She had one.
I said, "Your side broke it. " "Then I walked into the courtroom. " Inside, the air was cooler. The wooden benches faced forward.
The judge's bench loomed under the state seal. This room didn't care about my broken heart. That's why I trusted it more than Julian's apologies.
The courtroom didn't need to love me. It needed proof. I sat at the respondent's table with Hope. Julian and Marcus sat opposite us.
Sloan took a seat directly behind Julian, crossing her legs and arranging her cream dress perfectly over her knees. She wanted to be seen. I wanted the truth to be seen. The judge entered.
We rose. Lilia stirred and I pressed my lips to her temple. Good morning, said Judge McCarthy. She was in her late 50s with silver hair pulled back and reading glasses perched on the end of her nose.
We are here on the petition of Mr. Callaway for the temporary primary residence of the minor child, Lilia Callaway, age 3 months. Hearing Lilia's full name in that voice made my stomach clench. In the hospital, Julian had insisted on his last name, even though he'd missed the first 18 hours of her life. "It's tradition, " he'd said.
Then I'd been too weak to argue. Not today. Judge McCarthy looked over our tables. I understand emotions are high.
I expect restraint, relevance, and honesty. Julian glanced at me when she said the word restraint. I looked at the judge. Mr. Rhodes, she said.
You may begin. Marcus stood, buttoning his suit jacket. Your honor, my client is a successful, stable, financially secure father who is deeply concerned for the well-being of his infant daughter. Since the separation, Miss Barlo has demonstrated erratic behavior, financial instability, and an unwillingness to co-parent.
We will show that Mr. Callaway can provide a safer, calmer, and more structured environment. He paused just long enough for the words to hang in the air. Safer, calmer, structured. Sloan leaned forward behind him.
Her lipstick was bright under the courtroom lights. My daughter slept in my arms, unaware that these people were trying to frame motherhood as a job performance review. Marcus continued, "This is not an attempt to punish Miss Barlo. It is an attempt to protect Lilia."
I felt hope write one word on her legal pad. Protect. " She underlined it once. Then Julian looked at me across the aisle and his expression said, "What his lawyer didn't, you should have settled.
" I held Lilia closer. No, Julian, you should have remembered who keeps the receipts. Marcus Rhodes laid out Julian's case like a house staged for sale. Everything ugly was hidden under a fresh coat of paint."