Suddenly, a familiar figure emerges from the sea of reporters, her designer suit and perfectly coiffed hair unmistakable. Elaine Deveaux, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips, steps forward.
"Let's get one thing straight," she says, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "Cara Briers is not married to my son. In fact, I haven't seen Juniper in months, and I have no knowledge of his current mental state. All I know is that he has a history of instability, and that any child in his care would be at risk."
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, stealing the air from my lungs. How dare she? How dare she stand there and pretend to be a concerned mother, when she's the one who drove June to the brink of madness?
I open my mouth to retort, to defend my love, but Natalie's hand on my arm stops me. "Don't," she murmurs, her voice low and urgent. "That's exactly what she wants. Don't give her the satisfaction."
I force myself to take a deep breath, to unclench my fists and relax my jaw. Natalie's right. Engaging with Elaine here, in front of the cameras and the hungry eyes of the press, will only make things worse.
But God, it hurts. It hurts to stand here and listen to her lies, to her poisonous insinuations. It hurts to know that June is out there somewhere, alone and in pain, and I can't even be with him.
We make it inside, the grand oak doors of the courthouse slamming shut behind us with a resounding thud. The sudden silence is almost jarring, a pressure drop after the cacophony outside.
"You okay?" Judith murmurs, her eyes scanning my face with concern.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak past the lump in my throat. Truth is, I'm the furthest thing from okay. I'm terrified, down to my bones, of what's about to happen, of the battle I'm about to face.
But I don't have the luxury of falling apart. Not now. Not when my child's future hangs in the balance.
We make our way into the courtroom, the soft susurration of whispers and rustling fabric replacing the din of the crowd outside. I keep my head high as I walk down the aisle, refusing to cower beneath the weight of curious stares and pitying glances.
And then I see her.
Elaine Deveaux, resplendent in a tailored suit and blood-red heels, her lips curved in a smile as sharp as a serpent's fang. She's flanked by a phalanx of high-priced lawyers, a veritable army of legal might at her beck and call.
Our eyes meet across the room, a crackle of electricity passing between us. In that moment, I see her for what she truly is - a predator, sleek and ruthless, who will stop at nothing to get what she wants.
And what she wants is my child.
Rage surges through me, hot and bright, chasing away the chill of fear. How dare she? How dare this vicious, soulless creature think she has any right to my family, to the precious life growing inside me?
I'll see her in hell before I let her lay a single perfectly manicured finger on my baby.
We take our seats, Judith on one side of me and Natalie on the other, a bulwark of fierce, feminine strength. Dante's lawyers fan out around us, a small army of our own to match Elaine's legions.
The judge enters, a severe-looking woman with steel-gray hair and a gaze that could cut glass. She takes her seat at the bench, her robes billowing around her like a thundercloud.
"This hearing is now in session," she intones, her voice ringing through the suddenly silent room. "We are here to determine the fitness of Juniper Deveaux and Cara Briers to retain custody of their unborn child, given the recent questions that have arisen about Mr. Deveaux's mental state."
She turns that gimlet stare on Dante's lead attorney, a whip-thin man with a shock of silver hair. "Mr. Moretti, I understand you have a motion to present?"
Moretti rises, buttoning his suit jacket with a practiced flick of the wrist. "Yes, Your Honor. We move to dismiss this petition as baseless and prejudicial. Mr. Deveaux is undergoing treatment for the trauma he endured, and there is no evidence to suggest he poses any danger to his child."
Elaine's lawyer, a shark-eyed woman with blood-red nails, leaps to her feet. "Objection, Your Honor! Mr. Deveaux's history of violence and instability is well-documented. To allow a man in his condition unsupervised access to a child would be grossly irresponsible."
"I'm afraid I must agree with Ms. Sterling," the judge says, her brow furrowing. "The court has a duty to ensure the safety and well-being of the child, and given Mr. Deveaux's current state, I have serious concerns about his ability to provide a stable environment."
Moretti opens his mouth to argue, but the judge silences him with a cutting look. "However, I am not convinced that removing the child from its mother's care is the answer. Mrs. Deveaux has made some compelling arguments about her ability to provide for her grandchild, but I am reluctant to separate an infant from its mother without incontrovertible evidence of unfitness."
My heart leaps into my throat, a wild, desperate hope taking flight in my chest. Is she saying what I think she's saying? That I could keep my baby, even if June...
But the judge's next words send that hope crashing back to earth.
"Therefore, I am ordering a full investigation into the fitness of both parents. Psychiatric evaluations, home studies, character witnesses - I want it all. We will reconvene in one month's time to review the findings and make a final determination."
A month. A month of prying eyes and prodding questions, of my every move being dissected and analyzed. A month of Elaine's poison seeping into every crack, every crevice of my life.
I feel sick, my stomach churning with a noxious blend of dread and fury. This is just another one of her games, another way to make me dance to her twisted tune. She knows I'm not unfit, knows June would rather die than let any harm come to our child.