Then the judge returned.
Colder than before.
He looked at Marcus.
“Do you recognize this room?”
Marcus’s confusion seemed genuine.
For the first time all day.
“That’s our nursery.”
“Our,” I repeated.
He flinched.
My father looked at Savannah.
“Ms. Cross?”
She lifted her chin.
“I’ve never been in their nursery.”
Claire said, “That is not what he asked.”
Savannah’s eyes flashed.
“I said I’ve never been there.”
Judge Whitmore handed the phone to the clerk.
“Mark this as petitioner’s emergency exhibit.”
Bennett stood.
“Your Honor, we have no foundation—”
“You have a threat sent to a pregnant woman moments after this court issued protective restrictions. Foundation will not be the first concern.”
Marcus turned to Savannah.
“Did you do this?”
The question was quiet.
Sharp.
For the first time, aimed at her.
Savannah’s mouth opened.
Closed.
“Are you serious?”
“Answer me.”
She stepped back like he had slapped her.
