Written in 58 minutes.

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Molly breathed a sigh of relief when the elevator doors slid open and Jason emerged, stepping to the side and holding the door open so that Elizabeth and her sons could follow him out. Elizabeth stopped and straightened the tie her youngest son wore, even as Aiden made a face, and Jake snickered behind his back. Behind them, Jason tugged at his own tie, then stood obediently when Elizabeth, satisfied that both boys looked presentable, turned her attention to him and fixed the lapels of his suit jacket.

If anyone else had been looking at the quartet, it would be hard to guess that a week ago, there’d been no engagement, no hint that anything permanent would form though Molly knew enough about her sister’s ex-husband to know Elizabeth Webber had always lurked in the wings — even if it was just the memory of something Sam couldn’t erase.

She didn’t know how she felt about Danny being absorbed into that picture — being another boy that Elizabeth would dote on, gently molding and pushing him towards adulthood. That it might be Elizabeth at the important moments — graduations, weddings, the birth of children — when it should have been Sam.

Molly fisted her hand against her middle, the swell of grief rising so sharply that she had to look away. It should be Sam, she told herself, but it couldn’t be. It wouldn’t be. And all that mattered, all that should ever matter was the best interest of Sam’s kids. And there was no argument that Elizabeth was an excellent mother with whom Danny would thrive.

Resolved, she forced herself to smile and approach the four of them. “I’m so glad you changed your mind and brought Jake and Aiden. You both are a huge part of the petition I filed,” she told the teenagers. “I don’t think he will, but are you both all right answering questions if the judge has any?”

“Whatever you need to get Danny home,” Jake said. He elbowed his brother. “Right?”

“Well, what if he asks about the living situation? Room assignments,” Aiden added when Molly frowned. “I tried to get that sorted last night, but everyone said it wasn’t important—ow—” He winced when Jake flicked him. “What? It might come up—”

“Ignore them. They know how to act normal when they have to,” Elizabeth said, silencing both boys with a lethal glare. She looked to Molly. “And the room situation isn’t an issue. We have Cam’s empty room. He’s not due home for another week or so, and that will give us time to make final decisions. Unless you think the judge—”

“No, as long as we have space for him, that should be enough.” Molly stopped when the elevators opened again and Drew stepped up, followed by another man she didn’t recognize. She tensed and didn’t miss how Elizabeth subtle shifted so that she stood between Drew and Jason.

Drew adjusted his tie, arched a brow in their direction, then headed for the court room. Molly followed his progress, noticing the other man followed him. Where was her father?

“We should get inside. I think everyone else is already here, and I don’t want to keep the judge waiting,” she said, shaking off her concern. All that mattered was Danny and getting him out of here. She’d worry about her father later.

—

Michael shifted on the hard courtroom bench, then got to his feet when he saw his uncle arrive with Molly, Elizabeth and the boys. “Hey. Hey.” He came out of the row,  and hugged Jason. “I’m sorry about last night—”

“No explanations needed,” Jason told him. “Is—is everything okay?”

“That depends on your definition—” he paused when he saw Willow come into the courtroom, followed by her mother. They locked eyes for a moment, then Willow and Nina sat in the final row. “I told Mom to stay home. I hope that was the right choice.”

“And she listened?” Jason asked, surprised.

“So far. We’ll see if she pops up. Uh—” he gestured at the row behind where Brook Lynn was seated with Dante and Gio. “Drew came to the mansion last night. Tried to pick up Scout. But Grandma and Aunt Tracy had already been cooking up a plan. She slapped with an order of protection.”

“An order—” Molly blinked. “Against Drew?”

“Yeah. Grandma has temporary custody, pending the investigation by CPS. I don’t have all the details yet, but Drew will challenge it. Definitely because of Grandma’s health, but Brook and I—we’re gonna try and see if one or both of us can get custody instead. At least for right now. But I know Danny worried—and I’m sure you did, too,” he said to Molly.

“I did. I’m…stunned,” she admitted. “But relieved. If Drew can’t go back to the Qs, and he doesn’t have Scout, that makes things a little easier for Danny if we can get him out of here today.” She saw her mother lingering in the doorway, looking uncertain. Molly nearly waved her forward to join them, but then Kristina appeared at her side, whispered something in Alexis’s ear, and they went to sit near Willow and Nina.

The door behind the judge’s bench opened, and a bailiff led Danny in. Overnight, the bruise had bloomed into a sickening black and purple mark that crawled up most of his cheek, with a deep cut on his bottom lip.

Molly made a sound, and Jason tensed up, glaring at Drew who had taken a seat on the other side of the court room. The other man made a show of examining his tie, keeping his eyes from meeting anyone’s.

Elizabeth touched Jason’s arm. “He doesn’t have a scratch on him,” she said to him softly. “And yet he’s trying to claim self-defense. This can only help us. He wants you to react.”

“We’d better take our seats,” Molly said, moving aside so that Jason, Elizabeth, and the boys could take their seats in the front row, directly behind the table where the bailiff had led her nephew. Michael slid into his seat next to his cousin.

“I believe in the law, I believe in the law,” Dante muttered, and Brook Lyn squeezed his hand.

“His day is gonna come, Dante. You heard what Liz said to Jason. Drew wants us to react. Our only shot at keeping those kids away from him and where they belong is show him we’re better than that.”

“At least for now,” Michael muttered, leveling another dark glare at the man who’d torn through the family like a one-man wrecking crew.

Molly embraced her nephew, then touched the bruise on his cheek. “Hey, baby. You doing okay?”

“I guess.” Danny looked impossibly small in the clothes they’d given him — the juvenile detention kids wore an ugly shade of gray and they’d given him a jump suit that was one size too big. He was fourteen, and taller than his aunt, but somehow he seemed like the little boy with a gap-toothed smile asking for another hug.

“We’re going to get you out of here today.” Molly gestured at the row behind them, and Jason was on his feet, hugging Danny over the bench, and Jake managed to get one in before the bailiff cleared his throat. “You let me handle everything,” she told Danny, then turned—stopping when she realized who was sitting at the other table.

Justine Turner had a pair of reading glasses on, examining a brief. The ambitious ADA who everyone knew planned to challenge Robert in the next election. She only worked high-profile felony cases. Not family court or juvenile offenses.

“Aunt Molly?” Danny asked. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” She looked at him, flashed a smile that she didn’t really feel. She looked back at the front row, and saw Jason looking at the prosecutor’s table, too, his brow furrowed. Did he also realize who Turner was? Did he know that things had just taken a very nasty turn?

“Order, order. All rise,” the bailiff barked, ripping Molly’s attention back to the front of the room. She swallowed hard. Whether she was ready or not — they were out of time.

—

“What’s wrong?” Elizabeth murmured, feeling Jason’s forearm behind her hand tense so tightly, he might as well as have been made out of stone.

“The ADA.” He looked at her, and she saw a flash of fear in his eyes. “She works felonies.”

Elizabeth inhaled sharply, then looked at the judge, shuffling through paperwork. An ADA who worked felonies handling a juvenile misdemeanor assault? No. She was here to prosecute the son of Jason Morgan. The crime didn’t matter.

The judge, an older man with a thick cap of white hair, slid his glasses down his nose to peer at the those gathered. “Whose representing the minor?”

Molly got to her feet. “Molly Lansing-Davis, representing Daniel Edward Morgan, Your Honor.”

“Justine Turner for the city, Your Honor.”

“Ms. Turner?” The judge’s brows lifted. “I don’t recall ever seeing you in my courtroom before. Did you lose your way? The press office is on the first floor.”

Justine’s lips parted in surprise, and Elizabeth drew in her first easy breath. She squeezed Jason’s hand. The judge didn’t seem happy to see the ADA, and maybe it would work in their favor.

“Your Honor, the case might seem minor, but the victim is Congressman-elect Andrew Quartermaine—”

“Yes, I’m familiar with him. Saw his all his commercials and posters. Former Navy SEAL and devoted father.” The judge lifted a brow. “I see you’ve joined us today, Congressman-elect.”

“Yes, Your Honor.” Drew rose, buttoning his suit jacket. “I appreciate your support.”

The judge pursed his lips. “Are your injuries documented? I didn’t see any in the file. Just, ah, the assailant’s bruises.” He looked at Danny,  then looked back at Drew. “Do you have some where we can’t see them?”

“Your Honor, I don’t think that’s pertinent to this hearing,” Justine said, flashing a tight smile. “This is merely a bail hearing. Whether the Congressman has any visible injures, there are more than a few witness statements—including the accused—who say the first punch was thrown by the minor. That is assault.”

“Yes, I’m familiar with the charge, ADA Turner.” The judge adjusted his glasses, then picked up a petition. “You’re asking to deny bail and to hold young Mr. Morgan in a juvenile detention center pending the outcome of trial. You don’t think that’s a little harsh considering the circumstances and his clean record?”

“No. I don’t. Daniel Morgan has a family with vast resources who can transport him somewhere extradition treaties won’t reach. And there’s a history in his family of disappearing off the face of the Earth with no trace—”

“Your Honor, if I may—” Molly interrupted, earning a dirty look from Justine. “Daniel has no criminal history whatsoever. Until October, he lived in a home with a decorated PCPD detective acting as stepfather. We ask that you release him on his own recognizance into the custody his father and his future stepmother.”

“And that would be who you described in this petition?” the judge asked. “Jason Morgan, whose, ah, history is colorful and long, and Elizabeth Webber?”

“Exactly, Your Honor. Ms. Lansing-Davis would have you return this child to the man who inspired this kind of behavior. Since the return of Jason Morgan from God knows where, Daniel Morgan has had an unstable living situation with no legal address—”

“Daniel Morgan’s mother died five weeks ago,” Molly snapped, then flushed when the judge lifted his brows at her. “Samantha McCall died from complications of a liver donation surgery. At that time, Mr. Morgan was ready, willing, and able to step up and take full custody of his son. But it was agreed by everyone involved what was best for Daniel and his sister was to remain with his younger sister for as long as he could. The Congressman intends to take his daughter to DC at the beginning of the year. He lives in the family home, where Mr. Morgan was raised, and where he is a frequent visitor. The home is filled with relatives who adore Daniel and his sister. The only instability has come from the so-called victim in this case.”

Molly didn’t even wait for the judge to take a breath before she continued. “Mr. Morgan is engaged to Elizabeth Webber, and plans to make a permanent home for Danny with her. She has three sons, one of whom she shares with Mr. Morgan. She is an excellent mother. Her oldest son is a Stanford pre-med student on a scholarship where he plays soccer. It’s one of the best teams in the country, and Cameron Webber—”

“Your son is Cameron Webber?” the judge interrupted, and Molly turned to find Elizabeth blinking in surprise.

“Ah, yes. He’s…in his junior year at Stanford—”

“I remember Mr. Webber. He had a little trouble a few years ago. Silliness,” the judge added. “He was trying to help a friend with cancer?”

“Yes,” Elizabeth said. “He was young, impulsive, and he took the punishment the court gave him. Fortunately, it didn’t hurt his chances at Stanford.”

“Always thought it was an overreach. Just as this is,” the judge said, switching his attention back to ADA Turner.

“Your Honor, perhaps you should recuse yourself—”

“ADA Turner, maybe you don’t know how things work here in family court. You ought to have asked a colleague before taking this case. You’ve got a young boy, grieving the loss of his mother with bruises on his face, and an adult pressing charges of assault. I’d think very carefully before you push this forward.”

“Your Honor—” Turner tried again.

“I’m releasing Daniel Morgan into the custody of his father and his fiancee. And Congressman—I hope you weren’t looking to be re-elected once this hits the papers. Court is adjourned.”

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