Chapter 20
Adam
The afternoon session begins, and my stomach is in knots.
“The petitioner calls June Callahan,” Walsh says.
June stands from the gallery, smooths her dress, and walks to the witness stand. Calm, collected—every step measured, shoulders back.
But I know her tells.
The slight tremble in her hands as she places one on the Bible. The way she’s breathing just a little too carefully, like she’s counting inhales to keep herself steady.
The bailiff swears her in, and she sits, folding her hands in her lap.
Walsh doesn’t waste time. He stands, buttons his jacket, and approaches like a predator circling prey.
“Ms. Callahan, how long have you been in a romantic relationship with Mr. Lane?”
“Approximately three and a half months.”
“And during that time, you moved into his home?”
“Temporarily. My heating system failed during a cold snap. I stayed for a few weeks while it was being repaired. I’m back at my own house now.”
“Convenient timing.”
Michael’s on his feet. “Objection, Your Honor. Counsel is editorializing.”
“Sustained.” Judge Murphy’s eyes don’t leave Walsh. “Stick to questions, Mr. Walsh.”
Walsh doesn’t miss a beat. “You have no children of your own, correct?”
“That’s correct.”
“No formal training in child development or psychology?”
“No.”
“And yet you’ve inserted yourself into Emma Lane’s life, acting as a parental figure?”
June’s voice stays steady, but I can see the fire in her eyes. “I haven’t inserted myself anywhere. Emma and I developed a friendship naturally. I help with homework, we bake together, I read her stories. That’s not parenting—that’s caring.”
“Mr. Owen testified that you have commitment issues. That you’ve never maintained a serious long-term relationship. How do you respond to that?”
June doesn’t flinch. “Tyler is a bitter ex-boyfriend who was promised employment in exchange for his testimony. I ended our relationship because he wasn’t right for me. That’s not a commitment issue, Mr. Walsh. That’s good judgment.”
A ripple of quiet laughter moves through the gallery.
Even Judge Murphy’s lips twitch—just slightly.
Walsh’s jaw tightens. He leans in, voice sharper. “Isn’t it true that you’re using Mr. Lane for stability? For publicity for your bakery?”
June’s eyes flash. “My bakery was successful before I ever met Adam. The viral attention came from my work, not my relationship. And stability?” She leans forward slightly. “I built a business from nothing. I run my own home. I don’t need anyone for stability, Mr. Walsh. I’ve created my own.”
My chest swells with pride.
This is June.
Standing her ground. Strong, clear, unshakeable.
Walsh shifts tactics, but June meets every question with the same steady composure. She doesn’t waver. Doesn’t crack.
She’s magnificent.
When Walsh finally sits, I can see the frustration in his posture.
He didn’t land a single blow.
Michael stands. “Ms. Callahan, let’s clarify a few things.”
And I know—this is where June gets to tell her truth.
Michael doesn’t rush. He lets the silence settle, lets the weight of June’s last answers hang in the air.
Then, voice gentle, “Ms. Callahan, can you describe your relationship with Emma Lane?”
June’s entire expression softens. The defensive edge melts away, replaced by something warmer, truer.
“Emma is... remarkable.” Her voice catches slightly. “She’s curious and creative and so much braver than she knows. She’s been through a lot—the divorce, the move, adjusting to a new normal—and she’s handled it with more grace than most adults would.”
“How do you spend time together?”
“We bake. A lot.” A small smile tugs at her lips.
“We do homework—I help her with math using baking measurements, which makes it less intimidating. We read together at bedtime. She shows me her drawings, tells me about school, asks about my day. She’s...
” June pauses, swallows. “She’s become family. ”
My throat tightens.
“Do you love Emma Lane?” Michael asks.
June doesn’t hesitate. “Yes. With my whole heart.”
“And her father?”
June’s eyes find mine across the courtroom.
“Yes. Completely.”
The air between us feels charged. I want to cross the room, pull her into my arms, tell her I love her too—right here, in front of everyone.
But I stay where I am.
Michael lets the moment breathe, then continues. “Ms. Callahan, if the court rules in Mr. Lane’s favor today, what are your intentions regarding Emma?”
June straightens slightly. “To continue being exactly who I’ve been—someone who shows up for her. Someone who cares about her wellbeing. Someone who loves her father and wants to build a life with both of them.”
“And if the court rules against Mr. Lane?”
June’s jaw sets. “Then we appeal. We keep fighting. Because Emma deserves to be with the parent who actually shows up. Not the one who uses her as a pawn.”
Walsh shoots to his feet. “Objection, Your Honor—"
“Sustained.” Judge Murphy’s expression is thoughtful.
Michael nods. “No further questions, Your Honor.”
June steps down, and as she passes our table our eyes meet.
I mouth: Perfect.
She gives me the smallest smile—relief and exhaustion all at once—and returns to the gallery.
Harper pulls her into a quick hug, whispers something I can’t hear.
But I can see it in June’s face.
She knows she did well. She knows she told her truth.
And more than that—she knows she’s exactly where she’s supposed to be.
Fighting for us. For Emma. For this family we’re building together.
Walsh leans over to Sarah, whispering something urgent. Sarah’s face is tight, controlled, but the strain is showing.
This isn’t going the way she planned.
Judge Murphy glances at the clock. “Mr. Drummond, your next witness?”
Michael stands. “The defense calls Mrs. Diane Henderson.”
And the afternoon continues.
Mrs. Henderson takes the stand with the confidence of someone who’s seen enough of life not to be impressed by courtroom theatrics.
Michael approaches with a warm smile. “Mrs. Henderson, how do you know Ms. Callahan?”
“I’ve known June since she opened her bakery. Sweetest girl you’ll ever meet. Works harder than anyone I know.”
“And have you observed her relationship with Emma Lane?”
Mrs. Henderson’s whole face lights up. “Oh, yes. I’ve seen them together dozens of times. That child lights up around her. They play together, laugh together—it’s beautiful to watch. June’s patient, kind. She listens. You can tell Emma feels safe with her.”
Walsh declines to cross-examine. Smart—attacking a beloved older woman wouldn’t play well.
Next is Mr. Thompson, Emma’s teacher. Younger, professional, visibly nervous about being in court. Michael puts him at ease quickly.
“Mr. Thompson, you teach Emma Lane’s class?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Have you noticed any changes in Emma recently?”
“Her academic performance has improved notably over the last few months. She’s more confident, more engaged. She talks about June constantly—'June taught me this,’ ‘June made me that.’ The influence has been entirely positive.”
“Would you say Emma seems happy?”
“Very much so.”
Walsh tries to poke holes—asks if Emma ever mentioned being confused about June’s role, if there were signs of instability—but Mr. Thompson shuts it down cleanly.
“Emma has never expressed confusion. She understands perfectly that June is her father’s girlfriend and someone who cares about her. That’s not confusing—that’s healthy.”
Riley testifies next, and I watch Sarah’s face grow tighter with every word.
“June’s the best boss I’ve ever had,” Riley says. “Patient, fair, always teaching. And Emma? She’s in the shop almost every week. June treats her like gold—lets her help with simple tasks, teaches her measurements, always makes time for her even when we’re slammed.”
“Does Ms. Callahan ever seem distracted or uncommitted when Emma’s around?”
Riley laughs. “The opposite. When Emma shows up, June drops everything. That kid is her priority.”
Finally, Harper takes the stand.
Calm, composed—but I can see the emotion simmering just beneath the surface.
“Mrs. Wilder, what is your relationship to the parties involved?”
“June is my best friend. Adam is my brother.”
“And your perspective on their relationship?”
Harper’s voice is steady and clear. “June is the best thing that’s happened to my brother since Emma was born.
She didn’t have to take this on—the complications, the drama, the risk.
She chose it. She chose them. That’s not someone with commitment issues.
That’s someone with more commitment than most people ever show. ”
My throat tightens.
Harper continues. “I’ve watched June with Emma. Braiding her hair, helping with homework at the kitchen table. She shows up. Every single time. And Emma adores her.”
Walsh’s cross-examination is brief and ineffective. Harper doesn’t budge.
By the time she steps down, the narrative has shifted completely.
Tyler’s testimony seems petty and paid for.
Sarah’s concerns seem manufactured and vindictive.
And June emerges as exactly who she is—someone who shows up, someone who loves, someone who belongs in this family.
I glance at Sarah.
Her mask is cracking wider now.
And that’s what matters.
“The defense calls Adam Lane.”
I stand, button my jacket, and walk to the witness stand.
The bailiff swears me in. My hand is steady on the Bible, but my pulse is racing.
This is it. My turn to fight for my daughter.
Michael approaches, calm and measured. “Mr. Lane, can you walk the court through the events leading to your divorce?”
I take a breath. “Sarah had an affair. It lasted several months before I found out. When I did, I asked her to leave. She agreed to the custody arrangement without contest—she said her career was demanding and she couldn’t manage full-time parenting.”
“We’ve established that Ms. Spencer has only exercised her visitation rights sixty-two percent of the time. How does that affect Emma?”
My jaw tightens. “She’s disappointed. Sometimes she cries. She tries to act like it doesn’t hurt, but it does.”
Michael nods. “This morning, you responded to a major structure fire. Can you tell the court about that?”