Becca.
I wore a gray pencil skirt and a black blouse, sitting next to James and Ms. Loveless while the judge took the bench. The Cartwright side of the courtroom was made up of a troop of lawyers. I wondered why Ms. Loveless hadn’t brought every employee in her office as well. It certainly was intimidating—looking at the other side.
“All rise for Judge Hopper,” the bailiff intoned.
Everyone rose, including Layla, who was sitting behind us with the two kids.
“Please be seated,” Judge Hopper said, taking his seat. He wore the black judge’s robes, of course, which made me think of depictions of Death.
I swallowed, feeling the blood drain from my face. James took my hand.
“Now, I understand this is a custody hearing,” Judge Hopper mumbled. He was a bit elderly, and if not hard of hearing, at least hard to hear.
