They stopped at the nursery window. Connor pressed his face to the glass like it was a joke. Then a nurse walked up with paperwork. He glanced at the page, didn’t read a word, pulled out a pen, and signed with a sweeping, drunken flourish. His friend applauded. Connor nearly dropped the pen and laughed like it was hilarious. He handed the clipboard back, bowed dramatically, and staggered toward the elevator.
Maria paused the footage and zoomed in on the paperwork. Even blurred, the words were clear enough: Relinquishment of parental rights. His signature. The date.
A sick murmur rippled through the room. Someone whispered that it was disgusting. Someone else said they never believed my parents were praising that man for leaving.
My mom clutched the chair. My dad’s face turned an alarming red. On Lily’s tablet, the viewer count surged. Five thousand. Six thousand. Nearly seven thousand. Comments rolled like waves.
“No court will accept him.”
“Take this to authorities.”
“Protect that child.”
Bradley looked like he was shrinking in real time. He stared at the folder in his hands like it might burst into flames.
“This is your client,” I said quietly. “This is the man you thought deserved shared custody. This is the man my parents have been feeding information to for years.”
Bradley opened his mouth, but nothing convincing came out. He knew the damage was done.
Then the slam of a car door outside cut through the air. Another door. Heavy footsteps. Voices. Not reporters this time. A sharp knock echoed through the hallway. Everyone fell silent.
James opened the door. Two officers stood on the porch, breath visible in the cold, patrol car lights flashing red and blue across the snow.
“Good evening,” one said, polite but firm. “We need to speak with Robert and Elaine Whitmore.”
My mom jerked upright. My dad froze like a cornered animal.
The officer continued, “We’re following up on several calls placed in the last hour, and on information forwarded from the fraud division downtown. We have questions regarding possible financial irregularities tied to business accounts and family trusts.”
He stepped inside when James moved aside. The second officer followed, calmly surveying the stunned relatives, the paused hospital footage on the screen, the tablet in Lily’s small hands still glowing with a live audience.