Chapter Thirteen
Casey
“Yes.” I’d given her that information to include in the letter she sent several days ago.
“His specialty is business law, so he’s engaged a family practice firm in Charlotte.
They’ve assembled your employment history, your residential addresses, and enough public records to identify Sienna’s clinic and the transplant center.
They haven’t subpoenaed medical records, since those are still protected, but they’ve built a comprehensive background file on you. ”
My stomach drops. “When did this start?”
“The first records request was filed Sunday. They moved quickly, but I’ve been tracking this as we discussed.
” She pauses. “There’s more. Yoon filed for expedited paternity testing and emergency visitation yesterday.
Those are active. He also sent me a proposed voluntary visitation agreement as a framework for cooperation. ”
“What does that mean?”
“It means Sterling wants legal standing to see Sienna, and he wants the paternity formally established. Both of those are reasonable, even if the speed is aggressive.” She pauses again, longer this time.
“Casey, there’s something else. Yoon told me, off the record and clearly against his client’s instructions, that there’s a full custody petition sitting on his desk.
It hasn’t been filed. His client told him to hold it, but it’s drafted, complete, and includes a bid for full custody, a no-relocation order, and a request for a guardian ad litem. ”
The kitchen is very quiet. Sienna is telling the cartoon dog where the bone is buried.
“Yoon warned you,” I say. “Why?”
“Because Martin Yoon is a good attorney, who knows the difference between representing a client and enabling one. He wanted me to know what we’re dealing with so I can protect you. He didn’t say that in so many words, but attorneys don’t share privileged strategy by accident.”
Sterling met his daughter for the first time on Saturday morning.
By Monday morning his attorney had built a background file on the woman who raised her, drafted a custody petition, and left both ready to deploy.
Sterling called me yesterday. He asked me to come to Charlotte.
He sounded like a man making a reasonable request. He didn’t mention any of it.
That’s the part that makes my stomach turn.
I expected the records work. I expected the petition too, because he doesn’t walk into a situation without preparation, and a four-year-old daughter he didn’t know about is exactly the situation that makes a man like Sterling reach for every legal instrument he can find.
What makes my stomach turn is that he called me, asked me to bring Sienna to Charlotte, and didn’t say a word about his plan.
He let me hear the request without hearing the threat.
He chose to hide it from me as a trap he can spring later if I don’t comply with the request to go to Charlotte.
He’s been choosing wrong since that day in the penthouse living room, so I guess this shouldn’t surprise me. “What are my options?”
“You have several. The strongest one might surprise you.” Danielle pauses. “I don’t think he can take Sienna from you.”
I let out a harsh breath of relief, but it didn’t completely allay my fear. “Tell me why.”
“You’ve been the sole parent since birth. You’ve provided documented, excellent medical care, and a stable home. You have a good job, and your pediatric team would testify on your behalf. Dr. Murphy would have to recuse himself, of course.”
I’ve had to tell her basically everything about my life. It’s embarrassing in some ways, but Sienna is worth it. “Naturally. The man I’m dating isn’t a reliable witness.”
“Exactly. You still have a strong case overall. Mr. Hollingsford’s four years of zero contact is a fact a judge weighs against him, not for him.
” She pauses and papers shuffle in the background.
“His nondisclosure argument could work in his favor. It might make a judge sympathetic, but it won’t be enough to award full custody of a sick four-year-old to a man who is a stranger to her, even if he’s her biological father. ”
I close my eyelids. I should be relieved, but Danielle is clearly holding back something. “Tell me the rest.”
“He has resources to make this fight last eighteen months. He can drag it out with hearings, evaluations, guardian ad litem appointments, and temporary orders. He can pin you geographically with a no-relocation order. He can demand supervised visitation while the case is pending. He can bury you in depositions.” She pauses to let me hear it.
“You’d probably keep Sienna. You won’t keep your time, your savings, or your peace. Not if he decides to file.”
I open my eyes. Sienna is telling the cartoon dog where to look. She’s four years old and she’s right about where the clue is. “How much would it cost?”
“If he litigates fully? With his resources? Fifty thousand on the low end. More if it goes to trial.”
I make sixty thousand a year as an RN case manager. I have fourteen thousand in savings, nine of which is earmarked for Sienna’s out-of-pocket medical costs. The math is simple and it’s ugly.
The arithmetic beyond the money is uglier.
A custody fight takes eighteen months. Sienna’s transplant window is measured in weeks.
The registry hasn’t produced a match in four months.
Sterling is Sienna’s biological father, the other possible donor.
I still expect to donate, but my workup isn’t complete.
If something disqualifies me, Sterling is the only alternative, and I need him cooperative, not adversarial.
You don’t start a legal war with one of your child’s two possible donors.
Not because I think Sterling Hollingsford would withhold a transplant from a sick four-year-old.
I don’t think that. I also can’t control what eighteen months of litigation does to a medical timeline, and Sienna’s counts don’t wait for court dates.
“I’m going to Charlotte,” I tell Danielle.
“Casey —”
“I’m not going because of the petition. I’m going because Sienna needs the transplant and Sterling is one of two possible donors. I need cooperation from a man whose attorney just built a custody file on me. I can’t get that cooperation from a courtroom.”
“You understand what you’re trading? You have the advantage by staying in Ashville. He’s forcing you to rearrange your life on a threat that isn’t as solid as he’d like it to be.”
“I get it, but four months of my autonomy against the certainty that nothing disrupts the transplant is worth it. I’d do anything for Sienna.”
Her tone is warm. “As your attorney, I’d advise against it.
As a mother, I understand. I’ll contact Mr. Yoon.
I’ll indicate you’re willing to cooperate on medical testing, a brief relocation to Charlotte unless it’s unadvised by the medical team, and supervised visitation without a court order.
That takes the teeth out of the petition before it’s filed. ”
“Good.”
She takes a moment as though selecting her words.
“Casey, one more thing. If he escalates, if the petition gets filed, if the records work resumes, or if anything changes, you call me immediately. Everything goes through me. Normally, I’d advise you not to have any discussions with him without a witness present or do it all in writing.
Being in close proximity makes that impossible, but document everything. ”
“Understood.”
“You can legally record any conversations you’re a part of in North Carolina without his permission, so I suggest you do that if you’re going to discuss anything related to the legal aspects.”
“Got it. Thanks, Danielle.” I hang up a moment later. Sienna has moved on from the cartoon and is explaining to Bart dogs can’t solve mysteries because they don’t have “opsible” thumbs. She has been talking a lot about thumbs since I explained them to her.
Sterling texted me the estate address this morning with no greeting or context.
Just the address and a time. He’s treating this like a business arrangement with an adversary he’s forced to work with.
That’s exactly what it is and knowing that doesn’t make it sting less.
I’ve been to the estate before, during our marriage, but we lived in the penthouse.
I hope his mother doesn’t live at the estate full-time.
I call Alec at the clinic. He picks up on the second ring, and I hear talking in the hallway behind him, a nurse paging someone, the elevator chimes, and the ambient noise of a pediatric floor I know as well as my own kitchen fills the brief silence after we trade hellos.
“I’m going to Charlotte. Sterling has requested we move there temporarily, and there are good legal reasons to cooperate. Dr. Osgood is already in Charlotte, and Sterling is Sienna’s biological father. He may end up being her donor. I need to be there while the transplant team does the workup.”
Alec doesn’t tell me not to go. He’s quiet for a beat, and when he speaks, his voice has the steadiness I first liked about him, not the calm of a man who doesn’t feel things, but the calm of a man who feels them and chooses not to make them your problem. “What do you need from me?”
“Can you call Dr. Osgood? Hand off Sienna’s file with your notes and prepare her for our relocation and getting treatments at her clinic instead of going through you? The team at Presbyterian will want her full history, and it’ll go smoother coming from her primary hematologist.”
“I’ll do it today.” He pauses. “Sienna’s care comes first. Everything else is a distant second. You know that.”
“I know.”
“Including whatever’s happening between you and Sterling.”
I stiffen. “Nothing’s happening between me and Sterling.”
“Okay.” He says it simply. There’s no argument in his voice, no edge. “Go take care of your daughter. We’ll talk when you know what the next few months look like.”