Chapter 9: The Confrontation
The county courthouse was a grand, intimidating building with marble floors and echoing hallways. Hank wore his cleanest black jeans, a crisp button-down shirt, and his leather vest proudly over it. Mia walked beside him, holding his hand tightly.
In the hallway outside courtroom 3B, Julian Vance was waiting with two high-priced defense attorneys. Julian looked pristine in an Italian suit, but his eyes were dark and desperate.
As Hank and Mia approached, Julian stepped into their path. ""Mia,"" he said, putting on a sweet, pleading tone. ""Sweetheart, come here. You don’t have to lie for these people anymore. We can go home.""
Mia shrank back behind Hank’s leg for a second. But then she looked at the leather vest, remembered the ride in the rain, and remembered the broken glass that didn't bring anger.
She took a step out from behind Hank. She stood tall, clutching her pink cast with her left hand.
""That's not my home,"" Mia said, her voice clear and firm, echoing down the high-ceilinged corridor. ""You hurt my arm, and you took my mom's pictures away. I'm never going back with you.""
Julian’s face twitched with suppressed rage. ""You ungrateful little—""
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""Back off, Vance,"" Hank stepped in, his tall frame completely blocking Julian’s view. ""Save it for the judge.""
Julian’s lead attorney pulled his client back, whispering frantically into his ear as the court doors swung open.
