Page 87 of Just My Luck

“Eat up. Your mom and I have a big day today. I’m thinking tonight we can celebrate.” He turned to me. “Maybe we can let them horse around the farm for a little while.”

He had plans later in the morning to meet with JP and finalize everything with the business. It poked at a tender spot in my chest that Abel wanted to share it with his sister.

I smiled. “I’ll call Sylvie and set it up.”

It made my heart so happy that things were finally falling into place for the King children. Sylvie had always wished her siblings had a normal upbringing with stable parents. At least we could do that with our kids.

Ours.

It was painfully easy to see a life with Abel unfolding in front of me. Part of me wondered if he ever wanted his own children. I rarely let my mind daydream, but as I watched him share a casual breakfast with my kids, I couldn’t help but wonder what he would look like with our baby in his arms.

Floating on a cloud, the morning couldn’t have been more mundane.

It was absolutely perfect.

By lunchtime,Abel still hadn’t returned from his meeting with JP, and I was dying of curiosity. My attorney had assured us that the process was pretty painless, and with the proper paperwork filed, everything should go off without a hitch.

Still, I was anxious to see Abel and have him confirm that it all went well.

Distracted, I seated a few patrons interested in ordering lunch. A solo woman walked in and found a spot at a high-top table near the bar.

I smiled politely and slid the lunch menu toward her. “Welcome to Abel’s Brewery. I’m Sloane, and I’ll be your server today. Can I get a drink started for you or are we waiting on any others?”

The woman had dark hair and ice-blue eyes. Though her features were severe, there was a softness at the edges when she smiled. “Miss Robinson?”

“Oh, you can call me Sloane.” I smiled brightly, but only to cover the tiny alarm bell dinging in my head. How does this stranger know my last name? “What can I get started for you?”

The woman stood. “Are you Sloane Robinson?”

“That’s me.” She gave me a once-over, taking in my branded T-shirt and simple leggings. A flash of something crossed her face—pity, maybe? The woman slipped a thick manila envelope from her leather bag and placed it in my hands. “You’ve been served.”

The weight of the envelope was heavy in my hands. I stared at the woman as she slipped on a pair of sunglasses and strode out of the brewery without looking back.

The wordsPersonal and Confidentialwere stamped in red ink on the front.

“Everything okay?” Reina asked from behind the bar as her hand moved in rhythmic circles across the wooden top to clean it.

“Yep.” My gaze flicked to her briefly before returning to the envelope. “I think so.”

I carefully slipped my finger under the seal to open it. I slid the stack of papers free from the envelope and stared down at the thick, blocky letters. My eyes scanned the legal document as my heart ticked and panic rose in my throat.

Due to legitimate changes in circumstance, which include those as set forth below, modification of the present custody provision is warranted and father JARED HANSEN should be awarded sole, primary physical custody of the minor children.

Blood drained from my face as the information failed to process. My eyes darted across the pages, trying to make sense of the mass of legal jargon in front of me.

In support of JARED HANSEN’s petition for issuance of a Temporary Order of Change of Custody, JARED HANSEN states:

a.The minor children were subjected to a relocation from their family home in California to a one-bedroom cabin in Outtatowner, Michigan, in which they shared with their mother and an unknown, non-relative male.

b.The minor children were then subjected to an additional relocation when mother SLOANE ROBINSON entered into a marriage with an unknown male, Abel King, for whom she worked. [Exhibit A]

c.The mother and minor children remain in the home of Abel King, despite the felony conviction which is a part of his violent and negligent criminal history. [Exhibit B]

I blanched as the clicking of glasses and the grainy smell of the brewery got closer, and black seeped in at the edges. Blood hummed between my ears as I read the papers over and over again.

Sole, primary physical custody of the minor children.

None of this seemed real.

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