Ashley stepped off the gravel lot with a crisp, tailored confidence, her expensive heels clicking against the cracked concrete of the shelter entrance. Behind her stood two men in sharp gray suits holding thick leather folders.
“Michael,” Ashley said smoothly, putting on a face of dramatic, tragic concern. “Thank you for finding her. We’ve been looking everywhere to make sure she was safe.”
“Get away from us, Ashley,” I said, stepping between her and Emily, my voice dropping into a razor-sharp growl. “I saw the report from David Reynolds. I saw the bank transfers. I saw the hospital deletion logs.”
Ashley’s expression didn’t crumble. Instead, her sweet, fake smile broadened into something dark and deeply calculating.
“Oh, Michael,” she sighed, taking a paper from her attorney’s hands. “You always were so quick to react without reading the fine print.”
She held up a document bearing the legal seal of the State of Georgia.
“When Emily signed the divorce decree eleven months ago,” Ashley’s lawyer interjected, stepping forward, “she signed a standard full parental waiver clause. Because she failed to establish paternity within ninety days of birth—and because Mr. Carter was officially listed as a third-party non-guardian during the uncontested dissolution—she legally forfeited sole custody to the state. And three weeks ago, Ashley Bennett filed as the primary private adoption applicant.”
