Chapter 37
thirty-seven
tasha
I watched Judge Morrison’s expression tighten as Ms. Hayes settled in.
Calculations were happening behind those eyes, silent and fast. He'd been caught red-handed invoking outdated legal doctrine, probably assuming he was dealing with an unrepresented father who wouldn't know better.
Now he had a lawyer who clearly did know better, and his reputation was suddenly on the line.
Ms. Hayes leaned over to confer with Nate, her voice too low to hear, but I could see Nate's shoulders straighten slightly as she spoke. Whatever she was telling him, it was giving him hope for the first time all morning.
"Your Honor," Ms. Hayes said, rising with the kind of fluid grace that suggested she'd done this a thousand times before, "I'd like to address several irregularities in today's proceedings, but first I believe we should hear from Ms. Davis herself.
After all, she's asking this court to uproot a child from the only home she's ever known.
Surely the court would benefit from understanding her motivations directly. "
Judge Morrison looked like he'd rather eat glass, but he nodded curtly. "Ms. Davis, please take the stand."
Sarah stood, smoothing her designer blazer, her practiced smile flickering slightly. For the first time since this nightmare began, she didn't look completely in control.
Brad shot to his feet. "Your Honor, my client is prepared to answer questions, but—"
"I'm sure she is, Mr. Kensington," Ms. Hayes said pleasantly. "This shouldn't take long."
Sarah was sworn in, settling into the witness chair with the kind of composed demeanor that probably worked well in business meetings. But I could see the tension in the way she gripped the armrests.
"Ms. Davis," Ms. Hayes began, consulting her notes, "you've presented yourself to this court as a reformed woman, ready to embrace motherhood. Is that accurate?"
"Yes, that's correct."
"And when did this transformation occur? This sudden desire to be a mother?"
Sarah's smile tightened almost imperceptibly. "It wasn't sudden. It's been a gradual process over several years."
"I see." Ms. Hayes pulled out a tablet, swiping to something that made her eyebrows rise slightly. "Interesting. Because according to the incorporation documents for VitalFlow Therapeutics—that's your company, correct?—you founded it eighteen months ago."
"Yes."
"And you're currently seeking Series A funding for this venture?"
Brad was on his feet. "Your Honor, I fail to see the relevance—"
"I'm establishing timeline and motivation, Your Honor," Ms. Hayes said smoothly. "I'll connect it momentarily."
Judge Morrison waved Brad down. "Continue, counselor."
"Thank you." Ms. Hayes turned back to Sarah. "Now, Ms. Davis, as part of your funding efforts, you've created extensive marketing materials, haven't you? Press releases, website content, investor presentations?"
"Standard business practice," Sarah said, her voice still steady, but I caught the slight tightness around her eyes.
"Of course." Ms. Hayes consulted her tablet again. "In fact, you've been quite vocal about your personal life in these materials. Would you like me to read some examples?"
Sarah's knuckles went white against the witness chair. "That won't be necessary."
"Oh, but I think it will be." Ms. Hayes's voice remained pleasant, but there was steel underneath. "Quote: 'As a devoted mother, I understand the importance of family balance in achieving true wellness.' End quote. That's from your website's About section, published six months ago."
I felt my stomach drop. Sarah had been using Paige as a marketing tool while fighting for custody.
"Another quote," Ms. Hayes continued relentlessly. "From your press release announcing your Series A funding round, dated two weeks ago: 'VitalFlow's mission is deeply personal to me. Every innovation we pursue is driven by my desire to create a better world for my daughter.' End quote."
Sarah's practiced composure was cracking. "I don't see what—"
"But perhaps most interesting," Ms. Hayes said, producing a stack of photographs, "are these images used in your marketing materials. Mr. Crawford, do you recognize these photos?"
She handed me several printed pages, and my blood ran cold.
There was Paige at her favorite playground, but the background had been digitally altered.
Paige at her science fair, but I'd been completely edited out of the photo.
Paige's school picture from last year, professionally retouched and used in what appeared to be a company brochure.
"These are photos I sent to her parents," I said, my voice hollow. "But they've been... changed."
"Photoshopped, yes," Ms. Hayes confirmed. "Ms. Davis, you've been using digitally altered images of a child you haven't seen in eleven years to promote your business venture, haven't you?"
"I..." Sarah's face had gone ashen. "Those images represent my hopes for reconnecting—"
"They represent fraud," Ms. Hayes cut her off sharply.
Sarah's practiced composure was cracking. "I don't see what—"
"Ms. Davis," Ms. Hayes interrupted, her voice sharp now, "when was the last time you spoke to your daughter before filing this custody petition?"
"I—that's not—"
"The answer is eleven years ago, isn't it? When she was three months old and you abandoned her?"
"Objection!" Brad shot up. "Inflammatory language—"
"Sustained," Judge Morrison said, but his voice lacked conviction.
"I apologize, Your Honor,” Ms. Hayes said pleasantly, “Let me rephrase. Ms. Davis, prior to filing this custody petition, you had no contact with Paige Crawford for eleven years, two months, and sixteen days. Is that correct?"
"I was going through a difficult time—"
"Yes or no, Ms. Davis."
"Yes, but—"
"Yet you've been publicly claiming to be a 'devoted mother' while seeking millions in venture capital funding. Isn't it true that your investors expect to meet this daughter you've been featuring so prominently in your marketing materials?"
Sarah's face went pale. "I don't know what you're implying—"
"I'm not implying anything. I'm stating facts." Ms. Hayes produced a stack of papers. "These are emails between you and your lead investor, Meridian Capital. Would you like me to read the one where they specifically mention wanting to meet your family at the closing dinner?"
Brad was practically vibrating with objections, but Ms. Hayes pressed on.
"Isn't it true, Ms. Davis, that your entire funding round depends on maintaining this fiction of being a devoted mother? That losing this custody case would expose you as a fraud to your investors?"
"That's not—I genuinely want to be in Paige's life—"
"For Series A funding purposes."
"No!"
"Then explain to this court why, after eleven years of complete silence, you suddenly developed maternal instincts precisely eighteen months ago—the same month you incorporated VitalFlow Therapeutics."
Sarah opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. No sound came out.
"Furthermore," Ms. Hayes continued, her voice building momentum, "isn't it true that you systematically consulted with family law attorneys throughout this jurisdiction for the express purpose of creating conflicts of interest that would prevent Mr. Crawford from obtaining adequate representation?"
Judge Morrison leaned forward, his expression sharp. "Ms. Davis?"
"I… my attorney handled—"
"Your attorney? Who's sitting right there?" Ms. Hayes gestured toward Brad, who suddenly looked like he wanted to disappear into his expensive suit. "Mr. Kensington, did you or did you not engage in a pattern of consultations designed to prevent opposing parties from obtaining counsel?"
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? In my courtroom?" 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 stress in open court by reading incident reports for theatrical 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 discuss all of 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. "