Chapter 3 - THE INDEPENDENT EVALUATION
While the courtroom emptied out into the corridors, I stepped out into the hallway to find my attorney, Marcus Vance, leaning against the pale cinderblock wall, looking through a clipboard of notes.
"That speech at the microphone was a massive risk, Arthur," Marcus said, not looking up from his papers. "Judges hate emotional appeals when they fly in the face of strict bureaucratic guidelines."
"It wasn't an appeal, Marcus. It was the truth," I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Did Judge Miller get the independent social worker’s evaluation?"
Marcus finally looked up, a cautious, tight-lipped smile touching the corners of his mouth. "He did. That’s why he took a recess instead of ruling against us immediately. Dr. Henderson’s report was glowing. She inspected the workshop conversion yesterday evening. She noted that while your home is modest, it exceeds all safety minimums, and more importantly, she highlighted the psychological necessity of keeping these five siblings together."
My shoulders dropped several inches, the crushing weight lifting just a fraction. "So we have a shot?"
"We have a very loud, very complicated shot," Marcus corrected, adjusting his glasses. "The state hates being proven wrong, especially by a single guy who bypassed their traditional placement pipeline. When we go back in there, the judge is going to place conditions on you. Strict ones. Bi-weekly caseworker visits, mandatory financial counseling, and temporary wardship status for six months before full adoption can even be docketed."
"I'll take whatever conditions he sets," I said without a second of hesitation. "I don't care how many times a caseworker comes to inspect my kitchen. They can move in if they want to."
Marcus chuckled dryly. "Don't tempt them. Just stay calm when we go back in. Let the paperwork do the talking."
Down the hall, the double doors of Judge Miller’s courtroom clicked open, and the bailiff stepped out, calling out our names.
May you like
"Case number 442-B: In re the Guardianship of the Miller Children. All parties back in the courtroom."
My heart hammered against my ribs one more time as I turned back toward the children, offering them an encouraging nod before walking back through the heavy wooden doors to face the bench.
