Chapter 3 - The Friday Hearing
I ran to the living room window and ripped the curtains back.
A white government vehicle was parked on the street, and two social workers were walking up my driveway.
"Mr. Harrison, what do I do?" I panicked, my maternal instincts screaming.
"Do not let them take the children," Mr. Harrison ordered, grabbing his briefcase.
"I will handle the social workers, you take the kids upstairs and stay quiet."
I scooped Liam into my arms, grabbed Maya’s hand, and sprinted up the staircase.
We hid in the master bedroom, locking the heavy oak door behind us.
I could hear the doorbell ringing, followed by the muffled, authoritative voice of my lawyer.
I held my children close, my mind spinning with pure hatred for the man I had married.
Julian was willing to traumatize his own children just to get his hands on twenty-four million dollars.
Downstairs, the voices grew louder, turning into a heated legal argument.
Ten minutes later, I heard the front door shut, followed by Mr. Harrison’s footsteps on the stairs.
"They are gone, Clara," he called out softly.
I unlocked the door, letting out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding.
"I threatened them with a massive lawsuit for acting on a fraudulent tip without a warrant," he explained.
"But this only buys us a few days until the official hearing on Friday."
I walked over to my dresser, staring at my pale reflection in the mirror.
"I need to fight dirty," I whispered, my sadness morphing into a cold, calculated rage.
"Julian’s consulting firm is just a shell company," I told the lawyer, turning around.
"I used to edit his transcripts, and I remember seeing massive transfers from offshore accounts."
Mr. Harrison’s eyes widened with sudden interest.
"If we can prove he is laundering money, the judge will throw out his custody claim and unfreeze your assets," he said.
"I still have the backup hard drive I used for work," I told him, dropping to my knees.
I reached under the bed and pulled out a dusty shoebox filled with old electronics.
I dug through the tangled cords, my fingers wrapping around the silver hard drive.
"Everything is on here," I smiled, holding it up like a trophy.
Just then, Maya gasped and pointed at the bedroom window.
"Mommy, there is a man on the roof," she cried.
Before I could react, the glass shattered inward, showering the carpet with sharp fragments.
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A man in a black mask stepped into the room, holding a heavy metal crowbar.
"Give me the drive, Clara," the masked man growled, and I instantly recognized Julian’s voice.
