Page 180 of Mended Hearts

Or pocket child support, since she’d made a habit of blowing through her alimony like water.

“Noted,” the judge said dryly, then glanced back at Katie. “Counsel for the respondent?”

All five feet of Katie Alanzo stood beside me, hands folded with military precision.

“Your Honor, my client, Mr. Hart, has been the children’s primary caregiver since the initial custody hearing more than four years ago. His record of providing a safe and loving home is well documented, reinforced by updated testimonies submitted to the court, including letters from Matilda’s principal and therapist.

“By contrast,” she continued, “I’d like to draw your attention to existing documentation in our case. Most notably, the incident that led to the divorce: Ms. Hart’s neglect and abusive behavior culminated when she left young Matilda and infant Beau in a hot car while shopping. The event was reported and properly documented by authorities, along with several others that ultimately led to Mr. Hart gaining full custody.”

And paid the misdemeanor fine with my fucking money.

“These were not isolated lapses,” Katie went on, her voice calm and clinical, “but part of a persistent pattern of neglect. Ms. Hart has not demonstrated meaningful improvement—in fact, she continues to display patterns of narcissistic abuse. In light of that, we maintain that preserving the current custody arrangement is unequivocally in the children’s best interest.”

“Thank you, Counsel,” the judge said. Her attention shifted to Niko, who stood and shuffled his papers, tongue working at a back molar like he was chewing the world’s most tasteless gum.

“Your Honor,” he began, “while the petitioner’s past may not be spotless, we must consider the significance of reuniting a biological mother with her children. That bond cannot be overstated or replaced. My client is taking steps toward rehabilitation. She is currently attending therapy, enrolled in a parenting course, and has secured full-time employment.”

“I see,” the judge replied flatly.

Not a good sign for them. I could feel it, the tiniest undercurrent in her tone—one of skepticism, not sympathy. Still, it took every ounce of discipline not to shift in my seat as the nerves gnawed through my insides like maggots.

The judge turned her gaze to Carly. “Anything you’d like to add, Ms. Hart?”

From behind me, I could practically feel Leighton and Greyson trying to glare her into a pile of ashes as Carly stood.

“Your Honor, I’ve done everything I can to land on my feet after our divorce,” she began. “And frankly, I’m appalled I’m being treated like a mother who doesn’t deserve her own babies. I’m not playing games,” she said, flinging a glance Leighton’s way with a smug smile. “Oliver is an absentee father at best, relying entirely on hired help to raise my children. He consistently demonstrates immaturity—” she gestured at Leighton “—as evidenced by knocking up hismuch-younger nanny out of wedlock. What kind of example is that for a young girl like Matilda?”

“Your Honor,” Katie cut in crisply, not missing a beat. “Mr. Hart’s fiancée and their unborn child have no bearing on his parenting capabilities.”

“Agreed,” the judge said with a curt nod, directing a glare at Carly that made my heart thump. A single raised brow, and I felt hope surge in my chest. Carly might torpedo her own case.

“This court is concerned with the well-being ofyour children, Ms. Hart. Your opinions about your ex-husband’s fiancée are irrelevant.”

Niko grabbed Carly’s arm, trying to pull her down, but she wasn’t done.

“Of course. My apologies,” Carly said. “It’s just so important that my kids know their real mother?—”

“Enough, Ms. Hart.”

The judge’s voice cracked like a whip, and Carly flinched. Her cheeks flushed red, eyes going wide. What the fuck did she expect? Applause?

“We are here to determine where these children will be safest and most supported. I don’t need additional time to review. Frankly, my decision is clear. Given the existing and extensive record of neglect and—bluntly—emotional and physical abuse, your efforts at rehabilitation fall drastically short. Court-mandated classes do not constitute initiative.

“Granting full custody to Ms. Hart would be a failure in judgment. In fact, granting any form of custody without concrete evidence of reform is out of the question.”

“This is ridiculous—it’s been years!” Carly snapped.

I couldn’t even look at her—I’d laugh. She was imploding on her own, and we hadn’t even pushed her.

The judge’s expression hardened. “Given your continued outbursts, I’m also ordering supervised visitation, effective immediately.”

“What?”

I turned my head just in time to see Niko trying—and failing—to drag her down into her seat. Carly’s face was too busy turning various shades of mottled red to comply.

“Given the severity of evidence,” the judge finished, “I would advise against further petitions without meaningful behavioral progress. Your current arrangement is more thangenerous. You will provide proof of therapy and parenting classes to maintain visitation. Court is adjourned.”

The gavel cracked.

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