Page 103 of No Greater Love
The courtroom was dead silent. I could see Brad calculating, trying to figure out if there was any way to salvage this.
"Your Honor," Ms. Hayes said, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade, "I have documentation of sixteen separate consultations between Mr. Kensington's office and family law attorneys in this jurisdiction, all occurring within the two weeks prior to filing this petition. None resulted in retained counsel. This is a clear pattern of obstruction designed to deny Mr. Crawford his right to adequate representation."
Judge Morrison's face had gone from annoyed to furious. "Mr. Kensington, is this accurate?"
Brad's famous confidence had evaporated entirely. "Your Honor, we were simply exploring our options?—"
"By poisoning the well against the opposing party? Inmycourtroom?" The judge's voice could have frozen hell. "Ms. Hayes, please continue."
"Furthermore," Ms. Hayes continued, and her voice took on a tone that could have cut steel, "I find it unconscionable that opposing counsel has spent considerable time attempting to weaponize my client's military service and trauma against him. Mr. Kensington has deliberately attempted to trigger a combat veteran suffering from post-traumatic stressin open courtby reading incident reports fortheatrical effect."
Brad's face went pale, but Ms. Hayes wasn't finished.
"Your Honor, if we're going to discuss Mr. Crawford's service record, then by all means, let's discussallof it." She pulled out an official-looking document. "Since Mr. Kensington seems so interested in my client's military history, perhaps the court would benefit from hearing this citation."
Judge Morrison leaned forward, his expression shifting from annoyed to intrigued.
Ms. Hayes's voice rang clear and strong: "The President of the United States of America takes pleasure in presenting the Navy Cross to Hospitalman Apprentice Nathan James Crawford, United States Navy, for extraordinary heroism in action against the enemy while serving as Corpsman, First Platoon, Company G, Third Battalion, Fifth Marines, in support of Operation Phantom Fury on November 15th, 2004."
The courtroom went dead silent. I felt my breath catch as she continued reading, my heart hammering as I heard about Nate—my Nate—exposing himself to enemy fire to reach wounded Marines, carrying two wounded civilians over open ground while under sniper fire, evacuating his patients and immediately returning with another unit to the battle lines to treat other wounded.
This is why he never talks about it,I realized with stunning clarity.Not because he's ashamed, but because to him, it was just doing his job.The man who sang "Three Little Birds" to his daughter every night, who packed her lunches with surgical precision, who'd taught her about periods with color-coded charts,that same manhad run through enemy fire to save lives. Had been willing to die for strangers.
And he'd never once mentioned it. Never used it to make himself look good, never brought it up during our worst moments. Never. He'd let Brad Kensington try to destroy him with his trauma rather than reveal the heroism that had caused it.
I looked at Nate and saw him sitting rigidly straight, his face flushed with what looked like embarrassment rather than pride. He kept glancing around the courtroom as if he wanted to disappear, completely uncomfortable with the public praise.Of course he is,I thought.He probably thinks this is showing off.
I watched Sarah's face go ashen. Brad looked like he might throw up. Even Judge Morrison had straightened in his chair, his previous dismissive attitude completely evaporated.
"His timely and effective care undoubtedly saved the lives of numerous casualties," Ms. Hayes concluded. "Hospitalman Apprentice Crawford's actions reflected great credit upon himself and upheld the highest traditions of the Marine Corps and the United States Naval Service."
She set the citation down with deliberate precision. "Your Honor, Mr. Kensington has spent this morning attempting to destroy the reputation of a Navy Cross recipient—an honor held byfewer than seven thousand Americans—by weaponizing the very trauma he sustained while saving the lives of Marines and Iraqi civilians. I submit that this behavior is not only unprofessional but morally reprehensible."
That's my man,I thought fiercely, tears in my eyes. The pride that swelled in my chest was so intense it was almost painful. This quiet, honorable man who'd been willing to walk into this courtroom alone to protect his daughter—ourdaughter—was a genuine American hero.
And somehow, impossibly, he wasmine.
Judge Morrison cleared his throat, visibly shaken. “I… had no knowledge of these commendations, Counselor. Let the record reflect that the full citation has been entered into evidence.”
Brad looked like he wanted to sink through the floor. The confident smirk he'd worn all morning had been replaced by something that looked suspiciously like shame.
"Now then," Ms. Hayes said, turning back to Sarah with the kind of smile a shark might wear. Sarah looked like she was about to be sick. "Ms. Davis, I'll ask you one final question. If Mr. Crawford were to agree to seal these proceedings and sign a non-disclosure agreement—meaning the public and your investors would never know the outcome—would you be willing to withdraw your petition?"
The question hung in the air like a bomb with the pin pulled. Sarah's eyes darted to Brad, to the judge, to anywhere but Ms. Hayes's penetrating stare.
"I... I..." Sarah stammered.
"Take your time," Ms. Hayes said pleasantly. "Though I should mention that Meridian Capital's due diligence team is quite thorough. I imagine they'll be very interested in these proceedings regardless."
And that's when Sarah Davis—venture capital darling, devoted mother, reformed woman—finally broke.
"This isn't fair!" she burst out, her carefully cultivated composure shattering completely. "I'm her mother! I gave birth to her! I haverights!"
Her voice climbed higher, more desperate. "You can't just—I need this! Do you understand? I NEED this!"
"Ms. Davis," Judge Morrison warned, his voice sharp.
But Sarah was beyond hearing him now, beyond caring about appearances. "Twelve years ago, I wasnobody! I wasnothing! Working at a fuckingcoffee shop, taking classes I couldn't afford! I was drowning, and I made a choice! I made the only choice I could!"
