Chapter 6 - The Interim Order
Caleb’s hand whipped out, catching the edge of the manila folder before Arthur Vance could even blink, sending the papers fluttering like wounded birds across the sterile hospital floor.
"You drafted an interim custody petition before my son was even twenty-four hours old?" Caleb’s voice wasn't loud anymore; it was a deadly, frozen rasp that caused the overhead fluorescent light to seem to flicker. He stepped directly into Arthur’s personal space, towering over the attorney. "You bypassed the waiting period, lied to an on-call family court judge, and used a staged photograph to do it."
Arthur didn't flinch. He adjusted his titanium-framed glasses with maddening composure, looking down at the scattered papers before raising his eyes back to Caleb.
"It's not a lie if the court signed the order, Mr. Linwood," Arthur replied smoothly, his voice dripping with condescension. "Judges are notoriously cautious when viral social media scandals hit the public index. Your mother merely petitioned the court to protect the child's welfare amidst what appears to be a deeply unstable domestic environment. The temporary freeze is already active. A court bailiff will be here by eight o'clock tomorrow morning to transfer the infant to a neutral medical facility pending genetic verification."
I clutched my baby tighter to my chest, the protective instinct overriding the searing physical pain in my abdomen. "You can't take him. He is my son. We were married legally, and Caleb is his father!"
"Legality is a matter of documentation, Mrs. Linwood," Arthur said, turning his gaze toward me with a chillingly polite smile. "And right now, your family history, your mother's testimony, and the public uproar initiated by Beatrice provide more than enough probable cause to warrant an independent medical custody hold."
Before Caleb could lunge across the bed to grab the lawyer by his expensive silk tie, the door to our room pushed open once more.
It wasn't security. It was Marcus Vance, senior vice president of the firm, standing in the doorway with an expression of cold, corporate finality.
May you like
"Arthur," Marcus said, nodding casually to the attorney as if they had planned this meeting in advance. He then turned his hard, gray eyes toward Caleb. "I told you I needed this cleared up by tomorrow noon, Caleb. It appears your mother has already ensured that the firm’s name will be dragged through the mud regardless of what you do. Consider your partnership candidacy suspended, effective immediately."
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