Part 2: My aunt wanted to adopt my little sister after our parents d*ed just to get her hands on the money — she had no idea I had one more card to play.

The apartment where Vicky still sometimes woke screaming because she smelled smoke in her dreams.

“Yeah.”

I went to her.

“We’re going home.”

We almost reached the courthouse exit when someone called my name.

“Michael.”

I turned.

Denise stood alone near the elevator.

Howard and his attorney were nowhere in sight.

Her makeup had streaked beneath one eye.

Mercer stepped between us.

“You should communicate through counsel.”

“Please.”

Denise wasn’t looking at him.

She was looking at me.

“Just one minute.”

“No,” I said.

She swallowed.

“Michael, I know you hate me.”

“You lied about me. You tried to take Vicky.”

Her eyes dropped.

“I know.”

“You told child services I starved her.”

“I know.”

“You made her call you Mommy.”

Denise flinched.

“I never—”

Vicky’s hand tightened around mine.

I stepped closer.

“Don’t.”

Denise went silent.

I turned away.

Then she said something that stopped me.

“Howard wasn’t alone that night.”