Two uniformed bailiffs immediately moved toward Roland. He stood there, fists clenched, breathing hard, looking like a trapped animal. The man who’d spent six weeks painting me as an unfit mother, who’d walked in sure he was going to take my children, was watching his plan crumble.

Judge Thornwell turned back to Hazel, her voice gentle but firm. “Child, please continue. You’re safe here. Tell me what you need to say.”