Chapter 8 - THE HEARING
Monday morning, I walked into family court wearing the same black blazer I had worn to my father’s funeral.
I didn’t choose it intentionally.
Maybe part of me knew something was being buried.
Diego sat across the courtroom beside his attorney.
Teresa sat behind him.
Cream suit.
Pearls.
Perfect posture.
She smiled when she saw me.
I looked away.
The judge reviewed Diego’s petition first.
His attorney painted me as impulsive.
Emotional.
Vindictive.
“Mrs. Morales removed the child from the marital residence without notice.”
Rachel stood.
“After the child was struck with a belt.”
The courtroom went quiet.
Photographs were submitted.
Then the police report.
Then Diego’s texts.
Then the loan documents.
His attorney objected.
Rachel smiled.
“Your Honor, Mr. Morales claims Mrs. Morales is financially unstable because she froze family accounts. Those accounts were frozen after she discovered an $85,000 home-equity line opened using a signature she disputes.”
The judge looked at Diego.
His expression changed.
For the first time, he didn’t look confident.
Then came the video.
Diego and Teresa discussing divorce.
Custody.
Their plan.
When Diego’s recorded voice said, She comes with me, the judge looked directly at him.
His attorney whispered urgently.
Teresa stopped smiling.
Rachel submitted the child interviewer’s preliminary report.
The judge read in silence.
Then he issued temporary orders.
Sofía would remain with me.
Diego would have supervised visitation.
Teresa would have no contact.
No contact.
When the judge said those words, Teresa actually stood.
“This is ridiculous.”
The judge looked up.
“Sit down.”
“That woman is turning my granddaughter against—”
“Sit. Down.”
Diego grabbed Teresa’s arm.
She pulled away.
“I will not be treated like a criminal.”
The judge’s voice became cold.
“One more outburst and you will be removed.”
Teresa sat.
But her eyes stayed on me.
Hate.
Pure hate.
Outside the courtroom, Diego followed me.
“Verónica.”
Rachel stepped between us.
“Speak through counsel.”
“I’m talking to my wife.”
“Not anymore,” I said.
His face tightened.
“You really want to destroy everything?”
I laughed.
“You opened loans in my name.”
“I was building something for us.”
“You were preparing to divorce me.”
His eyes flickered.
“Who showed you that?”
“You did.”
“What?”
“You left evidence everywhere because you thought I was too stupid to look.”
That hit him.
Hard.
Then I added:
“And Lauren gave me the rest.”
His face drained.
“Lauren?”
“Yes.”
He stepped closer.
“What did she give you?”
There it was.
Fear again.
Not anger.
Fear.
I studied him.
“What are you afraid she gave me?”
His attorney grabbed his shoulder.
“Diego. Stop talking.”
But it was too late.
I saw it.
There was something Lauren knew that I didn’t.
I called her from the parking lot.
“Why is Diego terrified of you?”
She went silent.
“Lauren.”
“I didn’t tell you everything.”
“What didn’t you tell me?”
She exhaled.
“The property wasn’t the first deal.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“How many were there?”
“Three.”
“And whose name did he use?”
May you like
She answered quietly.
“Mostly yours.”
