Chapter 4
The world tilted.
I gripped the phone so tight my knuckles turned white.
"That's a lie," I said. My voice sounded raw, even to my own ears.
"I know," the detective said. "And we'll prove it. But right now, the judge granted the emergency order. You have to bring Ethan to the station by noon today."
"No," I said. "I'm not giving him back to her. Not after everything."
"Mr. Carter, I understand how you feel. But if you don't comply, you'll be arrested. And that will only help Sarah's case. We need to do this the right way."
I looked at Ethan. He was sitting on the floor, building with blocks, completely unaware that his world was about to be shattered again.
"Give me an hour," I said.
"Okay. But be here by noon. And bring a lawyer. You're going to need one."
He hung up.
I sank onto the couch, my head in my hands.
Sarah was fighting back. And she was fighting dirty.
I'd been so focused on protecting Ethan that I hadn't seen this coming. I'd underestimated her.
Big mistake.
I called the best family law attorney in town. His name was Harold Jenkins. He was expensive, but he had a reputation for winning impossible cases.
I explained everything to him. The abuse. The bruises. The pictures. Richard's arrest. Sarah's new accusations.
"Get to my office immediately," he said. "Bring Ethan. And bring everything you have."
I woke Ethan up from where he'd fallen asleep on the floor—he'd been so tired he'd just laid his head on a pile of blocks.
"Come on, buddy," I said, lifting him into my arms. "We have to go see a lawyer."
He rubbed his eyes. "Why?"
"Because your mom is trying to take you back," I said. "And I'm not going to let that happen."
He went still in my arms.
Harold Jenkins' office was in a tall building downtown. He was in his sixties, with white hair and a face that looked like it had seen every trick in the book.
He listened as I told him everything. He looked at the hospital photos. He read the police report. He even talked to Ethan for a few minutes, gently asking him about what had happened.
When we were done, he leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers.
"Sarah is playing a dangerous game," he said. "False accusations of child abuse are serious. But judges are cautious. They don't want to take a child away from a parent unless they're absolutely sure."
"So what do we do?" I asked.
"We fight back," he said. "We present the evidence. We get the child psychologist to testify. We make sure the judge sees the truth."
"But Richard said something," I said. "Before the police took him away. He said there was something else. Something Sarah had done."
Harold raised an eyebrow. "What did he mean?"
"I don't know. But I think it's worse than the abuse. And I think Sarah is going to use it against me."
Harold thought for a moment. "Then we need to find out what it is. Before she does."
He looked at his watch. "The hearing is at 2 PM. We need to be in court by 1:30. I'll file a response to her custody petition. I'll request an immediate evaluation by a court-appointed psychologist. And I'll make sure the judge knows about Richard's arrest and the evidence we have."
He stood up. "Go get some coffee. Try to stay calm. I'll handle the paperwork."
I nodded and took Ethan to the waiting room. He sat next to me, his hand in mine, swinging his legs back and forth.
"Dad?" he said after a few minutes.
"Yeah?"
"Am I going to have to go back to Mom's house?"
I squeezed his hand. "I'm going to do everything I can to make sure you don't."
He nodded, but he looked worried.
At 1:30, we went to the courthouse.
Sarah was already there.
She was sitting on a bench, wearing a simple black dress, her hair pulled back neatly. She looked like the perfect mother. The grieving victim.
Next to her was a woman I didn't recognize—her lawyer, I assumed.
Sarah looked at me when we walked in. Her eyes were cold. Calculating.
She didn't look like the woman who'd let her son be beaten.
She looked like she was going to war.
The judge called the case.
We went into the courtroom.
Sarah's lawyer spoke first. She painted a picture of a bitter, angry ex-husband who'd kidnapped his own son and was now making false accusations to get revenge.
"Mr. Carter has a history of anger issues," she said, lying through her teeth. "He's been jealous of his ex-wife's new marriage. And now he's using his own son as a weapon."
Harold stood up. He was calm, methodical.
He presented the police report. The hospital photos. The fact that Richard was in jail, charged with felony abuse.
"The evidence is overwhelming," Harold said. "My client is the one who protected his son. He's the hero here. And Mrs. Carter is trying to paint him as the villain because she's afraid of what will happen when the truth about her own involvement comes out."
The judge listened carefully. She looked at the photos. She read the reports.
Then she looked at Sarah.
"Mrs. Carter," she said. "Do you have any evidence to support your claims that Mr. Carter abused your son?"
Sarah stood up. Her voice was steady. Confident.
"Yes, Your Honor," she said. "I do."
She reached into her bag and pulled out a manila envelope.
"I have photographs," she said. "Of Ethan's bruises. Taken before my husband was ever in the picture."
The courtroom went silent.
I felt my heart stop.
Sarah handed the envelope to the bailiff, who gave it to the judge.
The judge opened the envelope and looked at the photos inside.
Her face darkened.
May you like
She looked up at me.
And I knew, in that moment, that I was in serious trouble.
