Page 90 of Louder Than Words

And to think just last week I thought it was silly we even needed a room this size for such a small matter. But now? Turning around and seeing all ten faces behind me, I’m grateful for this much space.

Suddenly everything feels like someone hit fast-forward. The judge walks in, the bailiff relieves us with a loud, “You may be seated,” and then it’s all happening at once. So fast, it barelyregisters until I hear my mother’s name being called and I watch her take the stand.

I clasp my hands together, blowing out a slow breath through pursed lips.

When I glance up, I don’t even need to catch her eye to know she’s giving methatlook—the worried mom look I’ve seen my entire life.

The one I inherited.

I’ve always called her the Queen of Faces since she never needed words. Not when she has either a raised brow, a tilted head, or a creased forehead. And if I was really lucky? I got all three. But I always knew what she was thinking.

And right now? She’sworried.

I offer her a quick, small smile, hoping my own face can read that I’ll be okay.

Trevor stands, looking every bit as nervous as he should be. His blond hair sticks up in every direction from how many times he’s already run his hand through it.

He holds a piece of paper under his nose, then lowers it and leans against his table. “Mrs. Windsor—”

“Carol,” my mother interrupts firmly, but she makes sure to do it with a bright smile spread across her face.

He falters, like he suddenly forgot what he was about to say. Though really, he should know better than to call my mother by her maiden name. She’s never been one for formalities—especially not with someone she once bought underwear for at Christmas.

His eyes flick between the judge and my mother before he finally pushes off the table and steps directly in front of her, arms crossed. “Could you please state who you are for the record?” he says.

I roll my eyes so hard it actually makes my head hurt. It’s like he binge-watched every episode ofLaw & Orderbefore courttoday just to sound official. Instead, it just makes him sound ridiculous.

My mother lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Carol Windsor. I’m Allison’s mother.”

“Carol, is it true that you watched over the girls while Allison went on trips to Boston and New York City?” he asks, now pacing the carpeted floor. I imagine him tripping and am almost ashamed at how much I have to bite back a grin.

Almost.

My mother frowns, tilting her head before answering, “Is it true you picked up the girls for both of those weekends?”

If this were a cartoon, smoke would be pouring from Trevor’s heels at how fast he stops pacing. He spins until he’s facing my mom again and clasps his hands behind his back.

“Answer the question, Mrs. Windsor,” the judge states firmly.

I swallow hard, not liking the tone the judge already has this morning. And it’s only just begun.

My mother lets out a short sigh before nodding. “Yes. That’s true.”

Trevor begins pacing again. “So, you’d agree that Allison left the girls in your care not once, but twice, so she could go off and party. Both times within a month of each other, where she was gone for nearly four days each?”

My mother raises an eyebrow—theeyebrow. Her code forstop while you’re ahead.

Instead, she turns to the judge, and my heart leaps into my throat.

“Your Honor,” she says, “since when is it wrong for a mother to take time for herself—especially when her children are safe and cared for?”

Judge Steinbeck’s eyes snap to Trevor’s over the rim of her thin glasses. “Mr. Monroe, is this line of questioning going anywhere? Mrs. Windsor—”

“Carol,” my mother corrects gently.

I can’t help but physically cringe.

The judge blinks, then gives a short nod. “Carol makes a fair point. If the children were safe and properly cared for while their mother was away, then how she spent that time is not my concern—and it definitely shouldn’t be yours either.”