Chapter 8 - THE JUDGE WHO SAID NO
Judge Harold Ellison recused immediately. He also cooperated with court ethics investigators. Rebecca had contacted his wife, not him. Her message said: We may need Harold to understand Lena is unstable. His wife replied: Do not involve us. No secret deal. No corrupt judge. Just an attempted social pressure campaign that failed. That distinction mattered. Then forensics traced my forged signatures to the computer of Michael’s executive assistant, Tara Mills. Tara cooperated. She said Michael often asked her to populate routine forms using stored signatures. At first she believed the practice was limited to internal paperwork. Then he sent a transfer consent. Tara asked whether I had approved it. Michael replied: Lena approved the package verbally. False. Then another message: Use Lena’s signature from mortgage closing. She’s in hospital and I don’t want to bother her. Direct. Then: Grant doesn’t need to know source. That ended the ambiguity. Michael personally ordered the signature copied.
I answered one call from him. “I never thought of it as forging.” “What did you think?” “Signing what you would have signed if you were thinking clearly.” That sentence told me everything. “You don’t get to decide what I would sign.” Silence. Then he cried. “I’m scared you’ll die.” “I’m scared too.” “That doesn’t make my signature yours.” He whispered, “I know.” Then he said something I had never heard from him before. “My mother says if we don’t control the plan, we lose everything.” “What is everything?” He was silent for a long time. Then: “I don’t know anymore.” The fetal monitor alarmed again. Doctors rushed in. When the room settled, the specialist said the babies might need to be delivered tonight. Naomi asked who should receive medical updates if I became incapacitated. “Jenna. Michael through counsel. Caroline after the babies are stable.” Then I paused. “And David, but only as a friend. No authority.” Specific. Minutes later the monitor dipped again. The surgeon came in. “We’re going now.”
At twenty-eight weeks, the custody battle suddenly became irrelevant. The only question left was whether all three babies would survive the night.
