Page 117 of No Greater Love
My voice broke. "I need your help. Sophia, you were right. About everything. Sarah, the playbook, all of it."
Where could I even start? The custody papers, the lawyer consultations, the coffee shop meeting where Sarah had shown her true colors exactly like Sophia had predicted?
"The coffee shop meeting was a disaster," I managed. "Sarah played it exactly like you said she would. Perfectly reasonable, understanding, just wants what's best for Paige. And then she filed for primary custody the same day. She was never planning to take it slow."
"Shit," Sophia breathed. "When's the hearing?"
"Tomorrow morning. Nine AM. And we can't find a lawyer. Every decent attorney in the city has either been bought off or conflicted out. Sarah's people made sure of that."
"Hold on, Tasha," came Sophia's voice. "I've got Jack here. Can I put you on speaker? I think we might need his input on this."
"Of course," I said, grateful for any help, from anyone.
"Hey Tasha," Jack's warm voice came through the phone, carrying that slight accent that usually made everything sound calmer. Tonight it just sounded concerned. "Sophia's been filling me in on some of this situation. What's the current status?"
And then it all came pouring out. Everything. How Sarah had systematically sabotaged our legal options. How the coffee shop meeting had been theater from the beginning. How Paige had innocently handed Sarah exactly what she needed by rejecting her so clearly.
"She was twenty-eight when she left," I said, my voice thick with tears. "Twenty-eight years old, and she just walked away from a three-month-old baby because it was too hard. And now she wants to take Paige away from the only parent she's ever known.
"And the worst part is… I think she's going to win," I whispered. "Nate's representing himself against someone with unlimited resources and no conscience. He's the best father in the world, but that's not going to matter in that courtroom.
"There's something else," I said, my voice breaking completely. "Something I haven't even told Nate yet. I'm pregnant."
The silence on the other end stretched for what felt like forever.
"How far along?" Sophia asked softly.
"Seven, eight weeks, maybe? I just found out." I sank into one of Nate's carefully arranged patio chairs. "And it's my own stupid fault. I had an ear infection, took antibiotics. I should have known better. I'm an ER nurse, for God's sake, and I made the most basic rookie mistake in the book."
My voice was rising now, pregnancy hormones and stress combining into a toxic cocktail of self-recrimination. "What kind of mother am I going to be if I can't even manage my own birth control properly? What if I screw up something important with the baby? What if?—"
"Stop," Sophia said firmly. "Tasha, listen to me. You made a human mistake that happens to healthcare professionals all the time. You think I haven't seen doctors and nurses make the exact same error? It doesn't make you stupid or incompetent or a bad future mother."
"But—"
"No buts. You're dealing with an impossible situation, you're pregnant, you're scared, and your brain is doing what brains do under stress—catastrophizing." Her voice gentled. "The antibiotic thing? That's just life being messy. The baby you're carrying? They're going to be lucky to have you as a mom."
I wiped my eyes, feeling slightly steadier. "I was waiting for the right moment to tell Nate, and then this happened. What if we lose Paige, Sophia? What if there's no good moment to tell him about the baby?"
"We're not going to lose Paige," Jack said quietly, and something in his voice had changed. More serious, more determined. "Tasha, what's the exact courthouse and time tomorrow?"
I gave him the details, my hands shaking as I scrolled through the legal papers on my phone. "Family Court, downtown. Nine AM. Judge Morrison presiding."
"Morrison," Jack repeated. "And Sarah's attorney?"
"Bradford Kensington. From Kensington, Walsh, and Associates."
There was a pause, then Jack said, "Right. I need to make some calls. Tasha, I can't promise anything concrete, but... we might have some options."
"What kind of options?" I asked, hardly daring to hope.
"The kind that require some very specific phone calls to some very specific people," Jack said carefully. "But Tasha, I need you to understand something serious. This is a longshot. We might not be able to pull anything together in time."
"But you'll try?"
"We'll try," Sophia confirmed. "Tasha, go back inside. Try to get some sleep if you can. And don't give up hope yet."
"But what if?—"
