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She couldn’t even snag her while Maya was in school because they were homeschooling her, just like they ended up doing with Syn.
What good would it do Maya if Syn ended up in jail? She figured her only choice would be to fight it in court but to do so, she needed legal representation. Good legal representation. The kind she couldn’t afford.
“Did you try looking for someone to do it pro bono?” Autumn asked.
“I’ve had no luck with that. Those people lie. They lie about everything. Even to the point where they’ve told law enforcement I’m not Maya’s mother and that I have mental issues and refuse to take my meds. I’m not even on any meds. But that’s how they got a permanent restraining order against me. They say I’m trying to steal Maya so I can hurt her. That I was jealous of the new baby they adopted.” A bitter laugh escaped her. “They didn’t even adopt her. They might have even lied about the guardianship, too. I don’t know that for sure, but they told others I was adopted and I never was. They had fake papers made up to show the school and whoever else asked. All of it was fake. Everything.”
Sig, appearing about to pop like a shaken two-liter bottle of soda, turned to Autumn. “Reese next door right now?”
The redhead nodded, still wide-eyed and looking a bit shell-shocked.
“Baby, can you get her? Thinkin’ she needs to hear all of this now so Syn don’t gotta repeat any of it.”
“Good idea,” Autumn said, heading over to the door and pulling a coat off a hook. She shrugged it on and glanced at Syn. “I’ll be back in a flash.”
After the door closed behind her, the apartment became so quiet she could hear her heart beating in her ears.
“Brother, after this shit gets straightened out, we’re gonna talk,” Sig said to Dodge.
“Yeah, you’re right, we are,” Dodge agreed.
The tension between them clung in the air. And it was her fault. “I don’t want to cause a problem between you two.”
“Ain’t no problem,” Dodge assured her with a slight squeeze to her neck.
“No, there is and Sig is right. Just because—”
Her thought was interrupted when the door opened again. Two people and the winter chill followed Autumn back inside.
Syn blinked at the man with her. He looked like a Viking with the way his head was shaved clean on both sides and his long hair on the top was braided down the center from his forehead past his collar. His eyes were observant, but intense, as he took in the scene.
The woman with him was a tall, curvy blonde, maybe mid- to late-thirties, and carried a swaddled baby in her arms. The infant made a sound that shot a sharp pain from Syn’s heart and radiated through her.
It had been about five years since she saw Maya. Five fucking years she’d been blocked from seeing her own damn daughter.
She only hoped the people now in this apartment could help her right that wrong. With strong allies at her back, she might have a better chance than on her own.
From beside her, Dodge said, “That’s Deacon and his ol’ lady, Reese. This is Syn, Sig’s sister.”
Both Deacon and Reese glanced at each other with confusion, then back at Syn.
“You got a sister, Sig?” Deacon asked. “Since when?”
“Since that cunt mother of ours squirted her out twenty-three years ago,” Sig answered, shaking his head. “That shit ain’t important right now. Need Reese to hear this fuckery. Need her expertise. The rest can wait.”
That was very true.
“You’re an attorney?” Syn asked the very put-together, older woman named Reese. For a new mom, she did not look exhausted or harried, but instead looked like she had her shit together. Just her demeanor oozed organized and no-nonsense. That could mean the child she held might not be her first.
“Baby, gimme my boy,” Deacon said, holding out his hands to Reese, “so you can deal with whatever this is and not worry about him distractin’ you.”
Reese nodded and handed over the sleepy baby to his father, then turned back to Syn, her expression all business. “I’m a civil litigator.”
“That’s a lawyer, right?” She had no idea the difference between a litigator and a lawyer or if there even was one.
“Yes, but—”
“Maybe you can help—”
“She had a baby, the people who adopted Syn took that baby and won’t give her back.” Sig’s interruption was thick with impatience.
Reese shook her head as if to clear it. “What? When? That one sentence isn’t going to cut it, Sig.” She turned to Syn. “How old is this baby?”
“She’s not a baby anymore.”
Reese frowned and her head tilted like she already knew she wouldn’t like the answer when she asked, “How old is she?”
This was where things could quickly get derailed. This was the part Syn dreaded even though it couldn’t be avoided. She took a breath, then on the exhale answered, “Nine.”
