Chapter 5
The heavy oak door of the brownstone slammed shut behind Evelyn, but the violent echo of Nyah’s final threat reverberated through the quiet living room long after. Outside, a steady, rhythmic rain began to tap against the windowpanes, blurring the neon lights of the city into bleeding streaks of red and yellow. Leo sat curled up on the oversized floral sofa, wrapped in three heavy handmade quilts, holding a mug of warm chamomile tea that his grandmother had forced him to drink.
Evelyn stood by the kitchen counter, her phone pressed tightly to her ear, listening to the monotonous dial tone of a legal aid office that had closed hours ago. She rubbed her temples, trying to massage away a splitting migraine that had bloomed behind her eyes the moment she stepped inside Nyah’s apartment.
"They're closed," Evelyn muttered to herself, dropping the phone onto the laminate countertop with a frustrated sigh. She turned and looked over at Leo. The boy’s eyes were bloodshot and hollow, staring blankly at the floral pattern of the sofa cushions, replaying the words anchor and relinquishment papers on an endless loop in his head.
"Grandma?" Leo whispered, his voice small and fragile. "Is she really going to give me away?"
Evelyn crossed the room in three long strides, sitting down on the edge of the cushions and pulling the quilts tighter around his small shoulders. She forced a reassuring, albeit strained, smile onto her face, though her eyes betrayed a deep, gnawing terror.
"No, sweetheart, of course not," Evelyn lied gently, stroking his damp hair. "Your mother is just stressed. She said things she didn't mean because of the party and the dress. Adults get overwhelmed sometimes. But nobody is taking you away from me, I promise you that."
She hoped with every fiber of her being that her words were true, but deep down, Evelyn knew the cold, hard reality of the family court system. Nyah was a rising tech executive with a six-figure salary, pristine credit, and a luxury downtown apartment. Evelyn was a retired high school art teacher living on a fixed pension in a drafty, aging brownstone that desperately needed a new roof. If Nyah truly decided to legally abandon her parental rights while simultaneously fighting for custody just out of spite or to avoid public embarrassment, a judge might view Evelyn as an unfit guardian due to age and financial instability.
Suddenly, a sharp, urgent knocking rattled the front door of the brownstone.
Evelyn froze, her hand halting mid-stroke on Leo’s hair. It was nearly midnight. Nobody ever knocked on her door at midnight unless it was bad news.
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"Stay right here," Evelyn whispered, standing up slowly and reaching for a heavy brass umbrella stand near the entryway.
She crept down the dim hallway, peering through the peephole. On the porch stood a tall, broad-shouldered man in a charcoal suit, clutching a thick manila envelope bearing the official embossed seal of the family court.
