623 "My husband thought the poison had killed us, so he called his accomplice to celebrate—but neither of them knew my son was still awake.

Three weeks later, the municipal courthouse was packed to capacity. News vans lined the streets outside, their satellite dishes pointed toward the stone steps of the building.

Inside Courtroom 402, the custody battle unfolded first—a tactical move by Marcus to strip Julian’s family of any financial leverage before the criminal trial officially began.

Evelyn Vance sat on the opposition side of the room, draped in expensive pearl necklaces and a black tailored coat. She looked at me across the aisle with cold, disdainful contempt. Beside her sat her high-powered attorney, Mr. Harrison.

"Your Honor," Mr. Harrison argued before the judge, standing tall at the podium. "My client, Mrs. Evelyn Vance, is simply seeking to provide a stable, traditional environment for her grandson during this chaotic time. The mother, Claire Vance, was subjected to a traumatic, near-fatal incident. Her mental state is inherently unstable. She dragged the child through the woods in the middle of the night instead of calling 911 immediately. We question her judgment."

I felt my blood boil, but Marcus placed a calming hand on my arm.

"Your Honor," Marcus said, rising calmly to address the bench. "The defense’s argument is not only absurd; it is grotesquely offensive. My client saved her son’s life through pure presence of mind and heroic survival instinct. Had she stayed in that house to call 911, Julian Vance would have finished the job."

Marcus picked up a thick stack of financial documents and walked over to the judge's bench.

"Furthermore," Marcus continued, his voice echoing authoritatively through the quiet courtroom, "we have subpoenaed Mrs. Evelyn Vance’s bank records from the last fourteen days. We can prove that three days after her son’s arrest for attempted murder, Evelyn attempted to liquidate $400,000 from young Evan’s educational trust fund to wire to a criminal defense retainer firm in New York."

The judge’s eyes narrowed sharply. He looked over his glasses at Evelyn. "Is this true, Mr. Harrison?"

Harrison stammered, his face turning red. "Your Honor... my client was merely trying to secure legal counsel for her son—"

"Her son is charged with poisoning his own child!" the judge slammed his gavel down hard, the sound cracking through the courtroom like a gunshot. "To attempt to raid the victim's educational trust to defend the perpetrator is a heinous abuse of familial standing!"

The judge turned his fierce gaze directly upon Evelyn, who shrank back into her chair.

"The petition for emergency custody is DENIED with prejudice," the judge ruled sternly. "Furthermore, I am issuing a permanent restraining order against Evelyn Vance. She is to have zero contact with Evan Vance or Claire Vance. Mrs. Vance, if you set foot within five hundred feet of that child, I will personally hold you in contempt and send you to county jail."

Bang!