PART 3 The courthouse smelled like wet coats, old paper, and coffee that had been burned for too many hours.

Savannah looked back at the judge.

“Yes.”

Bryce stood.

“Savannah, don’t do this.”

Judge Pike’s voice sharpened.

“Mr. Calloway, sit down.”

He sat.

But Savannah kept looking at him.

“Don’t do what?” she asked softly. “Protect the daughters you didn’t bother to visit?”

His face twisted.

“That’s unfair.”

“No,” she said. “It’s inconvenient.”

The judge called a short continue reading …