The courthouse steps felt steeper as Piper descended them, each step dragging with the weight of everything left unsaid in the courtroom. The knot in her stomach tightened with every thought:
What if the judge believes Noah? What if I lose Lily?
She had spent so much time fighting, trying to keep everything together, but today’s hearing left her shaken. Noah’s performance — because that’s what it felt like — was too smooth, too perfect. And worse, Jasper’s neutrality cut deeper than any blow.
She thought they were still on the same side. But maybe she had been fooling herself all along.
"Piper," Jasper called from behind her as they exited the building. His voice was soft, hesitant, the way it always was when he knew she was upset.
She stopped but didn’t turn around. "What, Jasper?"
He jogged to catch up, falling into step beside her. "I just wanted to say —" He stopped himself, rubbing the back of his neck the way he did when he was uncomfortable.
"You just wanted to say what?" Piper snapped, spinning to face him. "That you’re sorry? That you’re trying your best? Because I’m sick of hearing that, Jasper. Your best isn’t enough anymore."
Jasper flinched, but he didn’t argue. "I know," he said quietly. "But I’m not trying to hurt you, Piper."
"Then try harder," she whispered fiercely, her throat tightening with the effort to keep her emotions in check.
For a moment, Jasper looked like he wanted to say something else — something meaningful. But just as quickly, the moment passed. He glanced down the steps, where Isabel waited near his car, scrolling casually through her phone as if she had all the time in the world.
The sight made Piper’s blood boil.
"Go," Piper said bitterly, turning away. "Isabel’s waiting for you."
Jasper sighed but didn’t argue. She heard his footsteps retreat, and a moment later, the slam of his car door.
Piper stood frozen on the courthouse steps for a long moment, her heart pounding in her chest. The streets around her buzzed with life — cars honking, people chatting as they passed by — but she felt utterly still, as if the ground beneath her feet had turned to quicksand.
Back home, Piper’s house felt emptier than usual. Lily’s toys were scattered across the living room floor, a reminder of the life Piper was terrified of losing. She kicked aside a stuffed animal as she paced, her hands shaking with leftover frustration.
She needed a way to calm down, to pull herself out of the downward spiral. Without thinking, she reached for her phone.
Noah’s number hovered on the screen, a cruel irony that twisted her stomach. The person she once thought she could lean on was now the one threatening to take everything from her.
Instead, she called Amanda.
The phone rang twice before her lawyer answered. "Piper? Everything okay?"
"No," Piper said, rubbing her temple. "I need to understand — do you really think we can win this?"
Amanda hesitated, and Piper’s heart sank at the silence.
"We still have a solid case," Amanda said carefully. "But Noah’s strategy was... sharper than I expected. He’s playing the long game, Piper. He’s framing himself as the stable option. If the judge buys that —"
"He’ll win," Piper finished, her voice hollow. "Won’t he?"
Amanda sighed. "We’ll fight like hell. But it’s going to come down to how the judge interprets the best interests of Lily. We still have a chance, Piper. Don’t lose hope yet."
"Right." Piper tried to inject some confidence into her voice, but it felt paper-thin. "Thanks, Amanda."
After hanging up, she sank onto the couch, burying her face in her hands.
What if it’s not enough? What if Noah wins?
The thought of handing Lily over to Noah — of losing the small moments, the bedtime stories, the morning cuddles — made her chest ache. And worse, a nagging suspicion had begun to take root:
What if this isn’t really about Lily? What if it’s about control?
That evening, Piper tried to distract herself by cooking, but every chop of the knife felt heavy, her mind too cluttered to focus. When her phone buzzed again, she half-expected it to be Jasper — or worse, Noah. Instead, it was her mother, Diane.
Mom: Call me when you can, sweetie. Heard from Jasper. He mentioned court today.
Piper groaned. Of course Jasper would confide in her mother — Diane always liked him, sometimes more than she liked her own daughter. Piper debated ignoring the text but knew that would only invite more questions later. She called, pinning the phone between her shoulder and ear as she stirred a pot of boiling pasta.
Diane answered on the second ring. "Piper, honey. How did it go today?"
"It was a disaster," Piper muttered, stirring the pasta with more force than necessary. "Noah’s lawyer made him look like the perfect father, and Jasper —" She stopped, swallowing her frustration. "Let’s just say he wasn’t exactly helpful."
"Jasper’s in a tough position too," Diane said gently. "You know he cares about Lily."
"Does he?" Piper asked bitterly. "Because all I saw today was him sitting there, letting Isabel do all the talking."
Diane hesitated. "Isabel. That’s the lawyer, right?"
"Yeah," Piper muttered, dumping the pasta into the colander with a loud splash. "And apparently, she’s his new best friend."
"Piper," Diane warned, her tone soft but firm. "Don’t make this harder on yourself by getting wrapped up in jealousy."
"It’s not jealousy," Piper insisted, though the words felt like a lie. "It’s — complicated."
There was a pause on the other end, and when Diane spoke again, her voice was gentler. "You’re going through a lot, sweetie. But you can’t control what Jasper does. You need to focus on Lily."
Piper closed her eyes, gripping the edge of the counter. "I know, Mom. I just... I don’t know how to do this."
"You’re doing the best you can," Diane reassured her. "Just take it one step at a time. You’ll figure it out."
Later that night, after Lily was fast asleep, Piper sat at the kitchen table with a glass of wine, scrolling through photos on her phone. Most of them were of Lily — her gap-toothed smile on her first day of school, messy hair and chocolate-smeared cheeks from an impromptu baking session.
Each photo felt like a tiny piece of her heart, and the thought of losing any part of that life sent a fresh wave of panic crashing over her.
Her thumb hovered over a photo of Noah and Lily, taken during one of the rare moments when everything still felt manageable. Noah was crouched beside Lily at the park, his arm slung around her shoulders as she beamed at the camera. At the time, Piper had thought they looked like the perfect little family.
Now, she wasn’t so sure.
The more she thought about it, the more uneasy she became. Noah’s moves in court were too precise, too calculated — like he had been planning this for months. And the way he smiled, as if victory was already within his grasp, made her stomach churn.
Piper set her phone down, rubbing her temples.
I need to be smarter. I need to figure out what Noah is really after.
Because if she lost Lily to him — if this battle became about control instead of love — Piper wasn’t sure she’d survive it.
As the night stretched on, Piper curled up on the couch with Bunny in her lap, holding onto the stuffed rabbit as if it were a lifeline. The quiet hum of the city outside filtered through the windows, but inside, everything felt still. Too still.
And for the first time in a long while, Piper let herself cry — silent, aching sobs that shook her to the core.
She was tired of fighting. Tired of pretending she was okay. And more than anything, she was terrified — terrified that she was losing not just the custody battle, but herself.
When the tears finally stopped, Piper wiped her face and sat up, breathing deeply.
You can’t give up now, she told herself. Lily needs you.
And even if she had to face Noah, Jasper and the whole world alone — she would.