Chapter 82 082
EMILY
The courtroom felt colder than I expected.
The kind that settled deep in your chest and refused to leave. My fingers curled tightly around the strap of my bag as I stepped inside, my heels sounding too loud against the polished floor.
Morgan walked beside me, close enough that I could feel her presence, steady and grounding.
“I’m here,” she whispered again, like she knew I needed to hear it more than once.
I nodded, but I could not speak.
My eyes scanned the room instinctively.
And then I saw her.
Zara.
Everything else disappeared.
She sat a few rows ahead, her small body stiff, her little hands clutched tightly together like she was holding onto herself. Her hair was slightly messy, like someone had tried to fix it but did not know how she liked it done.
My chest cracked open.
For a second, I could not breathe.
“Mummy!”
Her voice cut through the entire room.
She saw me.
And just like that, she jumped to her feet.
She started running toward me without hesitation, her little arms already stretching out.
My body reacted before my mind could catch up.
“Zara—”
But before she could reach me, a hand grabbed her.
The social services woman.
She pulled Zara back firmly.
“No, sweetheart, you have to stay—”
Zara’s face crumpled instantly.
“No!” she cried, struggling against her grip. “I want my mummy!”
The sound shattered something inside me.
“Let her go,” I said immediately, my voice shaking.
But the woman held on.
Zara started crying harder, her small body twisting as she tried to break free.
“Mummy!” she screamed.
The entire courtroom shifted.
People started whispering. Even the judge looked down at the scene with a frown.
“Please,” I said again, taking a step forward. “You’re hurting her.”
“She needs to stay seated,” the woman insisted, but her voice lacked the same confidence now.
Zara was crying uncontrollably.
Her sobs filled the room, loud and desperate.
“I want my mummy!” she kept repeating.
It took less than a minute before it became clear that no one could calm her down.
The judge finally spoke.
“Let the child go to her mother.”
The woman hesitated.
But she had no choice.
The moment her grip loosened, Zara ran straight to me.
I dropped my bag without thinking and fell to my knees just in time to catch her.
She crashed into my arms like she had been holding that moment in all week.
I held her tightly.
Too tightly.
Like if I let go, she would be taken from me again.
“Mummy,” she cried against my neck.
“I’m here,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I’m here, baby.”
Her small hands clung to my clothes desperately.
“Don’t leave me.”
The words nearly destroyed me.
“I won’t,” I whispered quickly, pulling back just enough to look at her face.
“I won’t leave you again.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“I miss you.”
My own tears fell freely now.
“I missed you more.”
I kissed her forehead, her cheeks, and her hair.
Everywhere.
Just to remind myself she was real.
That she was here.
That I could hold her again.
The courtroom watched in silence.
Even the judge.
For a moment, nothing else mattered.
Not Cecilia.
Not the lies.
Not the case.
Just my daughter in my arms.
Eventually, I stood slowly, still holding Zara close as I took my seat. She refused to let go, and I did not make her.
The judge cleared his throat.
“Given what I just witnessed,” he said, his voice calm but firm, “is there still a case here?”
Cecilia’s lawyer stood immediately.
“Yes, Your Honor.”
I did not miss the way Cecilia’s expression tightened.
The social services woman stepped forward as well.
“There are concerns regarding the child’s welfare.”
My fingers tightened around Zara instinctively.
“What concerns?” the judge asked.
The woman adjusted the papers in her hand.
“We received reports that the child was being maltreated.”
My head snapped up.
“That’s a lie.”
She continued as if I had not spoken.
“We also have reason to believe that the child was not allowed to have a relationship with her father’s family.”
Zara stirred slightly in my arms, and I softened immediately, rubbing her back gently.
“It’s okay,” I whispered to her.
But inside, I was burning.
The woman continued.
“Additionally, we have concerns about Ms. Emily’s financial stability. Her bakery business has reportedly not been performing well.”
I let out a short, disbelieving laugh.
“That’s another lie.”
My lawyer placed a calming hand on my arm.
“Let me handle this,” she whispered.
She stood.
“Your Honor, we strongly refute these claims.”
Her voice was steady, confident.
“There is no evidence of maltreatment. In fact, we have records from neighbors, customers, and even pediatric checkups that show the child has been well cared for.”
She gestured toward me slightly.
“Ms. Emily has been the sole provider and caregiver for her daughter. The bond you witnessed moments ago is not fabricated. It is real.”
The judge nodded slowly.
“And the financial concerns?”
“My client owns a functioning bakery with stable income. We have financial statements to prove that her business is doing well.”
The papers were handed forward.
The judge reviewed them briefly.
Cecilia’s side shifted uncomfortably.
My lawyer continued.
“As for the claim that the child was kept away from her father’s family, there are circumstances that need to be considered.”
She paused.
“However, at no point was the child’s well-being compromised.”
The courtroom fell quiet again.
The judge leaned back slightly, studying both sides.
Then his gaze landed on me.
“Ms. Emily, do you have anything you would like to say?”
My heart pounded.
I looked down at Zara in my arms.
Then back at the judge.
“Yes.”
My voice was soft but steady.
“I love my daughter.”
The words felt simple, but they carried everything.
“I have always loved her. I have always taken care of her.”
My throat tightened.
“I would never hurt her. Ever.”
Zara clung to me tighter.
“I just want my child back.”
Silence followed.
The judge nodded slowly.
Then he exhaled.
“This is a complicated situation.”
My stomach twisted.
He looked between both sides.
“Given the arguments presented, I am not convinced that removing the child permanently from her mother is justified.”
Relief flickered in my chest.
But it did not last.
“However,” he continued, “I also believe the child should have the opportunity to build a relationship with her father’s family.”
The judge folded his hands.
“For now, I am ordering a temporary shared arrangement.”
My breath caught.
“The child will spend one week with her mother and one week with her father’s family. After this period, we will reassess and determine what is in the best interest of the child.”
It felt like the ground had disappeared beneath me.
One week.
One week without her.
Again.
Zara started crying.
“I don’t want to go,” she sobbed, clutching me tighter.
I held her close, my own tears falling again.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, even though it wasn’t.
“It’s okay.”
But she knew.
Children always knew.
When the session ended, the social services woman approached again.
Zara clung to me desperately.
“No,” she cried. “I want my mummy!”
My heart broke all over again.
“It’s just for a little while,” I whispered, my voice shaking.
“I’ll come get you, okay?”
She shook her head violently.
“No!”
Morgan stood beside me, her hand resting on my shoulder.
“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered.
But I could barely hear her.
Zara was pulled away slowly.
Her cries filled the courtroom.
“Mummy!”
I reached for her instinctively.
“Zara!”
But they took her.
And just like that, my arms were empty again.
The silence that followed was unbearable.
My chest tightened.
My vision blurred.
Everything felt too heavy.
Too loud.
Too much.
Morgan’s arms wrapped around me.
“I’ve got you,” she said softly.
But the world tilted.
Darkness crept in at the edges of my vision.
And before I could steady myself, everything went black.