Chapter 6: What He Filed
Grace called at seven forty-five the next morning.
"Brandon filed an emergency custody motion last night."
I was standing at the hotel window with a cup of coffee I hadn't drunk yet.
I set it down on the sill.
"On what grounds?"
"He's claiming you removed Skylar from the family home without his consent and that you're emotionally unstable.
He's requesting immediate temporary custody pending a full hearing." Grace's voice was precise.
She was reading from the filing.
"He also claims you have a history of erratic behavior under work stress and that Skylar's current living situation — a hotel room — is not appropriate for a child."
My hand tightened on the phone.
"He filed this the same night I told him to contact me through you."
"Yes."
"He moved fast."
"He did.
Which tells me he had the motion drafted before you spoke.
He was waiting to see if you'd come home.
When you didn't, he filed."
I looked at the door to the adjoining room, where Skylar was still asleep.
"What do we do?"
"We respond.
Today.
I'm filing a counter-declaration this morning that establishes the reason you left — the loan fraud, the forged signature, the hostile environment, the incident with Skylar's meals.
I'm also requesting that the judge review the fraud investigation materials as context for the custody claim." Grace paused.
"Charlotte, judges do not look favorably on custody filings that appear to be tactical.
And this one has the timing to prove it."
"Will she be safe?"
"Skylar stays with you.
No judge is going to remove a child from a primary caregiver based on a hotel room when the reason for the hotel is documented fraud by the other party.
But I need you to do something today."
"What?"
"Call Skylar's school.
Talk to her teacher or her counselor — whoever knows her best.
I need a statement from someone at that school about Skylar's normal state, her relationship with you, and anything they may have observed about her home situation.
Can you do that?"
"Her teacher is Mrs.
Okafor.
She's known Skylar since third grade."
"Call her this morning.
Explain what's happening.
Ask if she'd be willing to provide a written statement."
I called Mrs.
Okafor at eight-fifteen.
She picked up before the second ring.
"Charlotte." Her voice was warm and immediate.
"I've been thinking about Skylar.
She came in last week and told me she'd had instant soup for dinner three nights in a row.
I wrote it in my notes because it didn't sit right with me."
I pressed my fingers to my mouth.
"She said her grandmother told her that was what she was allowed to eat."
"Yes," I managed.
"I have it documented.
I was going to call you this week." A pause.
"What do you need from me?"
"A written statement.
My lawyer will send you the format."
"I'll have it done by noon."
I thanked her and sat down on the edge of the bed.
Skylar appeared in the doorway in her pajamas, hair still flat from sleep, rabbit tucked under one arm.
"Who were you talking to?"
"Mrs.
Okafor."
Her face opened up.
"My teacher?
Why?"
"She wanted to check on you." I held out my arm.
"Come here."
She crossed the room and leaned against me, and I held her there for a moment without saying anything else.
"Mom," she said into my shoulder.
"Are we going to be okay?"
I kissed the top of her head.
"Yes," I said.
"We are."
May you like
I meant it.
But two hours later, Brandon escalated in a way I had not anticipated — and for the first time since this began, I felt something close to fear.
