Chapter 6 - SOPHIE SPEAKS
Daniel wanted Sophie nowhere near a courtroom.
Mark agreed.
So did Dr. Harper.
The problem was that Lauren’s filings contained twelve separate allegations about her.
Violent jealousy.
Destructive behavior.
Emotional instability.
Unsafe fixation on the baby.
The claims were enough that the family-court judge appointed an independent child advocate.
Her name was Rebecca Sloan.
She came to the house on a Tuesday afternoon carrying no briefcase.
Just a notebook and a box of colored pencils.
Sophie immediately distrusted her.
“Are you another feelings lady?”
Rebecca smiled.
“Sort of.”
“Lauren had one.”
“I heard.”
“Do you make kids go places?”
“No.”
“Do you tell judges stuff?”
“Yes.”
Sophie narrowed her eyes.
“That sounds like making kids go places with extra steps.”
Daniel almost laughed.
Rebecca did.
“I suppose it can.”
She looked at Daniel.
“I’d like to speak with Sophie alone.”
Every muscle in his body resisted.
But he nodded.
“I’ll be right outside.”
Sophie grabbed his hand.
Rebecca noticed.
“You can leave the door open.”
That helped.
Daniel sat in the hallway for forty-eight minutes.
It was one of the longest periods of his life.
When Rebecca emerged, her expression was neutral.
Sophie immediately climbed into Daniel’s lap despite being almost too big for it.
He held her anyway.
Rebecca asked to speak privately.
Daniel carried Sophie to the kitchen, where Maria was making cocoa, then returned.
Rebecca closed the study door.
“I can’t tell you everything she said.”
“I understand.”
“But I can tell you I have significant concerns.”
“About Sophie?”
“About what she experienced.”
Daniel exhaled.
Rebecca opened her notebook.
“She has a highly developed habit of minimizing.”
He frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“If Lauren took away dinner, Sophie says she wasn’t very hungry.”
Daniel went still.
“What?”
Rebecca continued.
“If Lauren made her stand during a meal because she was ‘slouching,’ Sophie says standing is healthier.”
Daniel’s face changed.
“If Lauren locked her tablet away for a week, Sophie says screens are bad for kids.”
Daniel swallowed.
“She protects the adult.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because children often create explanations that preserve attachment.”
Daniel looked toward the door.
“She doesn’t even like Lauren.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
Rebecca’s voice softened.
“She needed Lauren to be safe because Lauren was the adult in the house when you weren’t there.”
That sentence hit Daniel harder than accusation would have.
“What else?”
Rebecca hesitated.
“There was an incident with a suitcase.”
His chest tightened.
“What suitcase?”
“Sophie said Lauren made her pack one.”
“When?”
“Two months ago.”
Daniel stood.
“Why?”
“She said it was practice.”
“For leaving?”
“Yes.”
Daniel stared at the wall.
“Did Sophie tell her where she wanted to go?”
“She said, ‘Daddy’s office.’”
His throat closed.
Rebecca continued.
“Lauren reportedly told her your office was not a home.”
Daniel sat again.
For several seconds, he could not speak.
Finally:
“Will you put this in your report?”
“I will report what I can substantiate.”
“Maria may have seen things.”
“I’m interviewing staff.”
“Camera footage?”
“I’ll review it.”
Daniel nodded.
“Do everything.”
Rebecca studied him.
“I intend to.”
Then she asked something unexpected.
“Where were you?”
Daniel looked at her.
“When these incidents happened.”
He could have defended himself.
Company expansion.
Travel.
Deadlines.
Board meetings.
He didn’t.
“Usually somewhere else.”
“How often?”
“Too often.”
“Did Lauren discourage contact?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“She told me Sophie was asleep. Busy. At activities.”
“Did you accept that?”
“Yes.”
Rebecca wrote something.
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“You don’t need to make this easier for me.”
“I’m not.”
“Good.”
“I also don’t need to make it crueler.”
Daniel looked at her.
“Children are harmed by what adults do to them,” Rebecca said, “but they are also harmed when every adult around them becomes obsessed with assigning blame.”
Daniel nodded slowly.
“What does Sophie need?”
“Predictability.”
He almost laughed.
His life contained almost none.
“Routine?”
“Yes. But more than that. She needs adults to mean what they say.”
That night, Daniel changed his calendar.
Not symbolically.
Actually changed it.
He canceled two unnecessary trips.
Converted one board presentation to video.
Moved a West Coast inspection to the following month.
His COO called.
“Is everything okay?”
“No.”
“Do you need leave?”
Daniel thought.
“Yes.”
There was silence.
“You’ve never taken leave.”
“Then we’ll both learn something.”
He arranged six weeks with limited travel.
Not because he could disappear from work forever.
Because Sophie needed to know he would still be there next Tuesday.
And the Tuesday after that.
Lauren hated the move.
Her attorneys argued Daniel was manufacturing a “sudden fatherhood performance” for court.
Daniel didn’t respond publicly.
Rebecca noticed anyway.
Three weeks later, she interviewed Daniel’s mother, Evelyn West.
Grandma arrived furious.
Not at Lauren.
At Daniel.
She entered his study and shut the door.
“How did you miss this?”
He stared.
“I don’t know.”
“That is not an answer.”
“I trusted my wife.”
“You outsourced your daughter.”
Daniel flinched.
His mother rarely softened anything.
“I know.”
“No, you keep saying you know.”
She pointed toward the hallway.
“That little girl lost Rachel and then spent three years watching you get busier.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened.
“I was trying to keep everything stable.”
“You kept the company stable.”
“I kept the house.”
“She did not need fourteen thousand square feet.”
Daniel looked away.
“She needed her father.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying that.”
Daniel looked back.
His mother’s eyes filled.
“I am angry because I love you.”
He swallowed.
“I know.”
She almost smiled despite herself.
“You did it again.”
He laughed quietly.
Then she sat.
“Now tell me what you are going to do differently.”
Not what he would buy.
Not what he would promise.
Do.
So Daniel told her.
Breakfast three mornings a week.
School pickup whenever he was in Connecticut.
No assistants calling teachers unless necessary.
Therapy.
Dinner without phones.
One trip per quarter Sophie could choose to join.
Protected weekends.
And the most important rule:
“If she asks whether I’m coming home, she gets a real answer.”
His mother nodded.
“Good.”
Then she asked:
“What about the baby?”
Daniel rubbed his hands together.
“I want custody time.”
“And Lauren?”
“We will co-parent if we can.”
His mother’s mouth tightened.
“Sophie will have feelings about that.”
“She gets to.”
“And if she doesn’t want a relationship with the baby?”
Daniel looked toward the family tree still hanging near Sophie’s desk.
“I won’t force affection.”
His mother studied him.
“You’ve changed.”
“No.”
Daniel looked tired.
“I got caught being the father I thought I wasn’t.”
Two days later, Rebecca filed her preliminary report.
She found no evidence Sophie posed any threat to Lauren or the unborn baby.
She found substantial evidence that Sophie had been pressured to accept relocation.
She specifically cited the forged signature, the fake statement, the boarding-school correspondence, the psychologist’s account, and the campaign note.
Sophie out by then.
Lauren’s request to characterize Sophie as a risk was denied.
Her request for exclusive control of the estate was denied too.
Daniel should have felt victorious.
Instead, he found Sophie sitting beneath Rachel’s memorial tree.
Crying.
He sat beside her.
“What happened?”
She handed him her tablet.
A child at school had shown her a video.
Lauren speaking outside court.
“I love Sophie,” Lauren told reporters. “But I also have to protect my unborn baby. People don’t understand how complicated grief can become in a child.”
Daniel felt fury rise.
Sophie whispered:
“Why does she keep saying I’ll hurt the baby?”
He put the tablet down.
“She shouldn’t.”
“Does the baby think that?”
“No.”
“The baby can hear stuff.”
Daniel paused.
“Some sounds.”
“So maybe it hears her saying it.”
He looked at Sophie.
“That baby does not know anything about court.”
“Good.”
Her lip trembled.
“Because I already love it a little.”
That broke him more than tears.
He pulled her into his arms.
A car door slammed near the driveway.
Maria came running.
“Mr. West.”
Daniel stood.
“What?”
Her face was pale.
“Mrs. West is here.”
“She’s not allowed inside without notice.”
“I know.”
May you like
Maria looked toward the gate.
“She says she’s in labor.”
