My parents arrive at nine, my mother carrying a small, wrapped gift for Charlie and my father looking stoic in his best suit. They've become her unofficial grandparents, visiting several times a week, bringing gifts and stories and unconditional love.
"There's our girl," my mother exclaims, enveloping Charlie in a hug. "Don't you look lovely!"
"The purple dress," my father notes with a smile. "Very appropriate for court."
Carter arrives next, his massive frame filling the doorway in his own version of formal wear, a black button-down that strains across his shoulders and dark jeans that are only slightly less worn than his usual pair. He hands Charlie a small stuffed bear wearing a tiny leather vest.
"For luck," he tells her, and I see her eyes light up as she adds it to her growing collection.
Torch and Kayla, Trenton's parents, have been here for a while. Torch has been pacing the whole morning, nervous, and Jackson, Matthew's dad, is doing the same thing. Matthew's mom Jean has been playing grandmother, spoiling Charlie along with Kayla.
My dad has been staying close by me; he will always be such an important person in my life.
Now the house is filled with people who have become our extended family: Sydney and Kane, Greyson and some of the other club members, and Dr. Elaine who insisted on coming for support. The kitchen buzzes with conversation, coffee flows freely, and the nervous energy is palpable.
At ten thirty, I pull Trenton and Matthew aside. "We should leave soon. The hearing is at eleven thirty."
They nod, their expressions serious but calm. We gather Charlie, thank everyone for coming, and promise to meet them at the restaurant afterward for a celebration lunch.
The drive to the courthouse is quiet. Charlie sits between Trenton and me in the back seat, Princess Sparklehoof clutched tightly in her arms. Matthew drives, occasionally glancing at us in the rearview mirror, his eyes full of emotions too complex to name.
"Will there be a lot of people watching?" Charlie asks, her voice small.
"Just the people who love you," I assure her.
"And the judge," Trenton adds. "But Dr. Elaine said Judge Martinez is very nice to children."
Charlie nods, seeming to process this information. "Will my daddy be there?"
The question hangs in the air. We've been honest with her about Evan's situation, that he's in jail awaiting trial and he's not allowed near us because of the restraining order. But the reality of seeing him in court is different.
"No," Matthew says firmly from the front seat. "He won't be there, sweetheart."
"Good." Charlie's voice holds a finality that breaks my heart a little. "I don't want to see him."
We arrive at the courthouse twenty minutes early. The building looms large and imposing, its stone facade intimidating despite the bright sunshine. Charlie grips my hand tightly as we climb the steps.
"Remember," I tell her softly, "we're all together. Whatever happens, we're a family."
Inside, the hallway is bustling with people, lawyers in dark suits, families in various states of emotion, and court personnel moving with purpose. Our lawyer, Ms. Alvarez, meets us at the entrance to the courtroom, her professional smile warm but nervous.
"Everything looks good," she tells us quietly. "The social worker's report is very positive, and the psychological evaluations for all of you came back strong."
I feel a flutter of hope in my chest. "Any last-minute surprises we should know about?"
She shakes her head. "Harris's lawyer filed another objection this morning, but given the restraining order and the evidence against him, the judge is unlikely to give it much weight."
We enter the courtroom and take our seats at a table in the front. Charlie sits between Trenton and me, while Matthew sits beside me. Behind us, the gallery fills with our friends and family, their support a tangible presence.
The judge enters precisely at eleven thirty, a woman in her fifties with graying hair and kind eyes. She looks at Charlie and smiles.
"Good morning," she says. "I'm Judge Martinez. And you must be Charlie."
Charlie nods, her small voice barely audible. "Yes, Your Honor."
The judge's smile widens. "I've read a lot about you, Charlie. Would it be okay if I asked you a few questions?"
Charlie looks at me, and I give her an encouraging nod.
