Chapter 229

Chapter 229
Queenie's POV
I woke with my chest in knots. There was a dull ache in the center like my ribs had strangled my heart and lungs while I slept. I stared at the ceiling for a long time without moving an inch. 
The room was totally silent. I could see the morning light that lighted up the tiny edges of the blinds. 
I heard steady sure footsteps. Anton was on the move, somewhere in the house.
I heard my phone buzzed on the nightstand. The bright screen nearly glared off a reminder: CPS hearing – 9:00 AM.
I sighed and drop the phone facing downwards.
Yup. Of course it just had to be today. The universe would rather break itself than give me a small break for once.
When I finally found my will to get up, Anton was already dressed.
He was in a black suit, clean-shaven, cal. He looked the CEO part completely. Like a man about to a deal, not stand beside her while the government decided if she was a good fit as a parent or not.
He stared at me with a quiet focus. “We’ll be fine.” I heard his voice echo back to me.
He could have been miles away from me. I was too far gone in my head.
“You don’t know that.”
“No,” he said. “But I know you.”  His eyes told me he was being sincere.
That helped. A little.
I got dressed slowly. I wore a navy blue gown and pulled my hair back tight. I applied a little powder and lipstick. I didn’t want to look like I was trying too hard. I wanted to look a bit tired but still in the fight.

I shuddered a bit. The courthouse was colder than I remembered. The walls seemed whiter and more lifeless. The hallways were made of cheap wood and cheap clocks. 
I always found it ironic. People always walked fast in a building where lives were being changed permanently and most times not for the better in almost every room. 
We sat on one of the hard benches outside the courtroom. I was unconsciously tapping my foot against the floor. I didn’t realize till I felt Anton’s hand settle gently on my knee. I stopped tapping.

Michael  walked past us ten minutes later. I saw his smugness long before I saw his face clearly. A grin too wide on a face that still had the audacity to look polished.
He didn’t even look at me. He just glared at Anton. I could feel the  silent challenge that passed between them like a tossed match.
I looked away.
The doors opened and I heard my  case being called. My legs immediately turned to jelly and disconnected from my body.
I walked like I was in someone else’s shoes. Someone else’s life.
The CPS rep started with that clipped,  tone they all government agencies were known for. She raised her professional doubts about my ability to be stable. She cited the “concerning footage" and my license suspension. 
She talked about my emotional volatility.
Yeah. She thinks she knows all about of me, just from one doctored video.
I clenched my hands together. Damn you Michael. 
She proceeded to my “instability”. She spoke about her she went to my apartment and found it in a mess, and I have a living arrangement that’s not ideal for a child…particularly one so young as Junie.
“Did you forget that I was attacked in my house and that’s why I no longer stay there.” I almost screamed at her.
Damn you Michael. Again. Damn you a thousand times!
She continued. According to the CPS Rep all this pointed out to a “pattern of questionable judgment.”
I sat perfectly still, my jaw clenched tight. I wanted to scream. I felt like standing up and asking the judge how anyone would look sane in a video filmed out of context and edited with the specific purpose of trying to ruin them professionally.
But I didn’t move. I could hear  Anton’s voice  clearly in my head: “Let your truth speak louder than your anger.”
It was our turn. Anton’s lawyer rose. He was calm, precise and wasted no words. He laid out a timeline.
He began with the work and achievements I have made in the community. He delved into my history at the clinic. He talked about the harassment I had endured from Michael. He also emphasized the length at which Michael had gone to sabotage me both professionally and personally. He paused and observed the countenance of the jury before he continued. He extolled my virtues and hammered on the solid, consistent  environment I have created for Junie and how despite, an unsuccessful attack on me, I’m still the getting the job done when it comes to Junie.
Then Anton stood.
He spoke with that low commanding voice that made people stop and listen to him. The courtroom was totally silent. “I’ve watched Queenie dedicate herself to Junie every single day. Junie has become her world and her devotion to her is absolute.  I’ve seen her stay up all night through colic and the incessant crying. My God. Don’t even get me started on those.” 
There were some suppressed chuckles of understanding around the courtroom. The clerk had to shout order twice for the chuckles to die down.
Anton gave me a smile and continued.
“I’ve seen her give Junie more love and structure, than some biological parents ever manage. If you ask me, this hearing is not a question of her fitness but the weaponization of the system by a man who couldn’t stand losing.”
I felt my throat burned.
And then it was my turn to make a statement.
I stood. My palm was sweaty. I took a breath. Then another. I didn’t look at Michael. I looked at the judge.
“My name is Queenie Andrews . I’m a licensed medical professional. I’ve treated and attended to several families and children down the years. 
I never planned on being or expected to become Junie’s mother, but that’s what happened. Not overnight. It wasn’t  because I wanted to play hero. It was because  she needed someone to look after her and I couldn’t walk away from her.”
I paused. I could feel the cracks in my voice. 
Don’t you dare get teary now. I willed myself to be stoic.
“The video that was played in  courtroom is a blatant digital lie. It wasn’t just doctored but because it conveniently left out everything that matters. It didn’t show my compassion, exhaustion and exasperation with a colleague who should have known better. Michael Fisher didn’t just record that moment. He engineered it because he is a sore loser.  He never thought I would leave him and he never forgave me for doing so. The video was a punishment for refusing to stay silent.”
I glanced at a picture that I had tucked in my bag. It was a picture of her, Anton, and Junie. 
I sighed, looked up and continued.
“I love that little girl like she’s mine. Because she is mine. Yes I know we are not blood. But she’s mine by every other measure that counts.”
Michael’s lawyer tried to rattle me during his cross examination. He doled out questions fast, interrupted me twice. The height of it was when he insinuated I had a temper problem.
I smiled. Once. It was to let the judge see that I wasn’t intimidated or ruffled by his line of questioning .
“No further questions,” the lawyer muttered. I could see his frustration at his unsuccessful attempt to goad me.
The courtroom went still as they waited for the judge ruling. The  judge began to read from the file, flipping a few pages with dry fingers. Then he looked up.
“I have reviewed the evidence, the testimonies, and the circumstances brought before me.  While there are some areas that will require monitoring, the court does not find the case and evidence as sufficient grounds to remove the child from Ms. Andrew’s custody.”
I exhaled for what felt like the first time all day and immediately felt lighter. 
“She will remain the ward guardian.” the judge continued, “ there will be  a six-month supervisory period in which Child Protective Services will conduct both scheduled and unscheduled check-ins.”
Michael stood frozen. I watched as his  face twisted into a poorly contained scowl.
“Court is adjourned.”
I didn’t realize I was sobbing until Anton was beside me, with his arms around me, as he whispered  in my ear.
“We did it, Queenie. We did it. We won.”
My hands trembled  as I returned his embrace. It wasn’t fear this time. It was the sheer weightlessness of relief. A burden has been made lighter.
Outside, the sun scorched my skin but  I was past caring. She felt like she could breathe again.
Anton led me down the steps, he was still holding my hands and for the first time I didn’t give a damn who saw. Not Michael. Not anyone.
In the car, I leaned my head back against the seat and shut my eyes.
“You held it together,” Anton said, starting the engine.
“Barely.”
“it was enough.”
I turned to him, as I wiped my face. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For believing me. For not telling me to calm down when I was unraveling. For being in that room and not making it about you.”
He smiled, slow and real. “I’m learning.”
The drive back home was in comfortable silence. I pulled out the picture again and stared at it.
“I want to frame this,” she said.
Anton glanced over. “We will.”
She looked out the window. “We’re not out of the woods yet.”
“No,” he agreed. “But we’ve got a map now.”