Chapter 5: The Verdict
As Mike escorted the shrieking Mrs. Sterling toward the exit, Mark rushed in. He was breathless, his tie crooked, as though he had sprinted from the parking lot.
“Mom? Elena?” He froze, absorbing the scene. His mother restrained. His wife watching him with eyes cold enough to freeze hell.
“Mark! Tell them!” Mrs. Sterling cried, struggling against Mike. “Tell them to release me! She’s lying! She’s insane! She says she’s a judge!”
Mark looked at me. “Elena, sweetheart… what’s happening? Why is Mom being arrested? Did you two argue?”
“She tried to take Leo, Mark,” I said. “She claimed you agreed to give him to Karen. She slapped me.”
Color drained from his face. He stared at the floor. “I… I didn’t agree. I just… I didn’t say no. Mom was just… you know how she is. She thought it might help. I figured… maybe we could discuss it later.”
“Discuss giving away our son?” I asked. “As if he’s a puppy?”
“Karen is heartbroken, Elena,” Mark pleaded. “And Mom… she didn’t mean to hurt you. She’s just intense. Please. You’re the judge. You can fix this. Tell Mike it was a misunderstanding. Don’t tear the family apart over this.”
“A misunderstanding?” I let out a hollow laugh. “She struck me, Mark. She nearly tore out my IV lines. She terrified our son. And you’re asking me to misuse my authority to protect her?”
“She’s my mother!” Mark shouted. “Family comes first!”
“No,” I replied. “My children come first. And the law comes first.”
I reached for the pitcher and poured myself a glass of water, my hand steady.
“Mark, you were aware of this plan. You knew she was coming here to pressure me into signing away my rights. You knew she considered me weak because I concealed my position to spare your fragile pride. You knew she called me useless.”
“I… I just wanted peace,” Mark muttered. “I didn’t want to take sides.”
“There is no peace with predators,” I said. “Mike, take her to the station. Book her. Set maximum bail.”
“Elena!” Mark stepped toward me. “If you do this, it’s finished! I won’t stay married to a woman who sends my mother to jail!”
“Good,” I answered. “Because I mentally drafted the divorce papers while your mother was ranting. You’re complicit in an attempted kidnapping. I suggest you hire an excellent attorney. One better than you.”
“You can’t do this,” Mark whispered, as the reality of his collapsing life set in. “I’m your husband.”
“Yes, I can,” I replied. “Leave. My attorney will reach out to you in the morning. If you come within 500 feet of me or my children, I’ll have your bar license revoked for ethical misconduct before you can say ‘objection.’”
Mark stared at me. He saw the woman he believed was a meek housewife. He saw the steel framework beneath her. He saw the judge.
He turned and hurried after his mother—not to rescue her, but to plead with her to stay quiet before she made everything worse.
