“What are you requesting?”
“That the petition against Ms. Bennett be denied, that she retain sole custody, and that I be allowed to earn whatever relationship with my son she and the court decide is appropriate.”
The courtroom shifted.
The attorney walked slowly. “You are a billionaire hotel executive. You have more resources than most families see in ten lifetimes. Why not fight for the child?”
Justin looked across the room at Zara.
“Because wanting my son does not mean I get to erase what his mother survived. She raised him. She protected him. She built a life for him when I was not there. My job now is not to take. It is to show up.”
Something changed in the judge’s face then. Not softness. Attention.
Thea Caldwell’s testimony did the rest.
The audio recording of Constance’s voice played through the courtroom speakers, smooth and merciless. A few gasps rose from the gallery when the payment records were entered into evidence.
Constance herself took the stand near the end.
She remained composed for the first ten minutes. But entitlement becomes stupidity when placed under bright enough light.
“Yes, I altered the result,” she said. “My son was about to ruin his future.”
“With a woman he loved?” Zara’s attorney asked.
