Chapter 3 - The Terrifying Friday Custody Hearing
The fluorescent lights of the Suffolk County Family Court hummed with a sterile, soul-crushing intensity on Friday morning.
Marlo sat at the oak defense table wearing her best blazer, though it felt entirely inadequate against Preston’s expensive legal team.
Preston sat across the aisle, looking like a poster boy for corporate success with his tailored charcoal suit and smug grin.
Beside him, attorney Robert—the very man who had fled the bakery in terror earlier in the week—kept his eyes fixed firmly downward.
The family court judge, a stern woman with steel-gray hair and rimless glasses, adjusted her microphone.
“Case number four-four-zero-two, Ashby versus Hart,” the judge announced, her voice echoing across the silent courtroom.
Preston’s lead attorney stood up smoothly, buttoning his jacket with theatrical confidence.
“Your Honor, we are petitioning for emergency temporary custody based on verifiable financial instability and inadequate medical access,” the lawyer stated.
Marlo’s palms grew slick with sweat as she gripped the edge of the wooden table.
“The mother operates a small neighborhood bakery with volatile cash flow, making her incapable of funding critical pediatric procedures,” he continued.
“That’s a complete lie!” Marlo half-rose from her chair before the judge slammed her wooden gavel down.
May you like
“Silence, Ms. Hart, or you will be held in contempt,” the judge warned sharply, her gaze piercing and unforgiving.
Preston flashed a triumphant smirk across the aisle, confident that his financial trap had finally snapped shut.
