“I’ll petition for review under appropriate supervision,” Elise said. “If there’s anything relevant to custody or safety, it needs to be admissible.”
“And if it’s not about custody?”
Her expression tightened. “Then it may be about Evan’s death.”
Neither of us spoke for a moment.
Rain tapped the windows.
Evan Bennett had known numbers told stories. He had hidden a message in his son’s stuffed bear. He had written my name as if I were the harbor he hoped his children might reach.
I had spent years believing I owed him nothing more than respect for an honest man.
Now his children looked at me like a promise.
“Elise,” I said, “find Anna.”
“We are.”
“No. Make it the priority.”
“It already is.”
“Then make it more than that.”
She studied me. “You’re angry.”
“Yes.”
“Good. Be angry in this room. Not in court. Not around the children. Not around Nathan. And especially not around Claire.”
“I don’t plan to see Claire.”
“That may not be up to you.”
The words proved true three days later.
The court scheduled an emergency review after Evan’s note and the photograph were entered into the case file. Claire’s attorney objected to nearly everything—authenticity, chain of custody, relevance—but even he could not soften the date on the back of the photograph or the effect it had on the room.
Claire sat beside him in a navy dress, pale and perfectly still.
She looked smaller without the beige coat.
For the first time, I noticed the shadows under her eyes. She did not look like a woman who had slept well. Her hands remained folded on the table in front of her, but her left thumb rubbed the side of her right hand again and again, the motion hidden unless someone knew how to watch for fear.
Nathan sat two rows behind Maya. His knees bounced until Lily reached over and placed her small hand on his leg.
He stopped immediately.
The twins did not attend the hearing itself, only the waiting room with Dr. Patel and their foster mother, Ms. Paula. That was one blessing.
The judge reviewed the new information without theatrics. She was a woman in her sixties with silver hair and a voice that made interruption feel impossible.
