Chapter 14 - THE COURTROOMThe emergency custody hearing took place four days later.
Lily was not required to attend, but Greg requested to see her.
The judge denied it.
Greg appeared by video from county jail wearing a gray uniform and the same controlled expression he had used in interviews. His lawyer argued that Lily had been “coached by hostile relatives and emotionally manipulated by hospital staff.”
Hospital staff.
That meant me.
I testified for twenty-six minutes.
I described Lily’s presentation, her fractured arm, her distress regarding the boots, Greg’s physical interference, the concealed pouch, the injuries around her ankle, and Lily’s spontaneous statements.
Greg watched me through the screen.
He did not blink much.
His lawyer asked, “Dr. Ellis, are you trained in criminal interrogation?”
“No.”
“Are you trained to determine whether a child’s statement has been influenced?”
“I am trained to document spontaneous statements made during medical care.”
“But you cannot say with absolute certainty that Lily Carter was telling the truth.”
I looked at Greg.
Then at the judge.
“I can say with medical certainty that Lily was afraid. I can say she was injured. I can say her father attempted to stop us from treating her. And I can say the object hidden in her boot was not placed there by accident.”
The courtroom went quiet.
Rachel cried silently in the front row.
Denise testified next. Then Chloe. Then Sarah. Officer Reed described Greg’s threats. Detective Hayes presented the preliminary findings and Anna’s letter.
The judge removed Greg’s legal custody pending further proceedings and placed Lily with Rachel.
Greg’s face finally changed.
Just slightly.
A twitch at the corner of his mouth.
Control slipping.
The judge said, “Mr. Carter, you are to have no contact with the minor child.”
Greg leaned toward the camera. “Lily needs her father.”
The judge replied, “Lily needs safety.”
It was the first time in days that I felt the room breathe.
Outside the courthouse, reporters shouted questions.
Rachel held no press conference. She did not perform grief. She did not owe the public her tears.
But as we walked toward the car, Greg’s mother appeared from the crowd.
Patricia Carter.
Perfect hair. Pearl earrings. Cold eyes.
She looked at Rachel and said, “You have no idea what Anna started.”
Rachel stopped.
Patricia smiled.
May you like
“That little girl belongs to us.”
Lily, miles away in a hospital bed, had no idea the next war had already begun.
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