Chapter 12
Two weeks after the aborted wedding, Julian stood on the wide stone steps of the county courthouse, adjusting the collar of his jacket against the crisp spring breeze. Beside him, clutching his hand firmly, was Lily. She wore her favorite yellow sundress, her blonde hair held back by a simple blue headband.
They weren't here for a trial or a deposition. They were here for a final meeting with family court services—the first official step toward the adoption papers Julian had promised to file months ago.
The heavy oak doors of the courthouse swung open, and Martha Vance stepped out into the sunlight. She wore the same sensible trench coat, but her expression was markedly lighter, free of the heavy ledger-induced stress she had carried during their first meeting.
"Mr. Montgomery. Lily," Martha greeted them with a small, professional nod that softened into a warm smile as she looked down at the little girl.
"Martha," Julian said, shaking her hand firmly. "How did it go inside?"
"The judge signed off on the emergency audit closures," Martha said, pulling a manila folder from her briefcase and handing it to Julian. "Marcus is facing federal fraud charges, and Claire entered a guilty plea this morning in exchange for a reduced sentence. The community fund has been fully restored."
Julian looked down at the folder, then up at Martha. "Thank you. For everything. If you hadn't stepped in when you did..."
"I didn't step in for her," Martha interrupted gently, glancing at Lily before looking back at Julian. "I stepped in because the truth has a way of demanding daylight, Mr. Montgomery. You and Lily deserved the truth before it was too late to walk away."
Lily looked up at Martha, her grip on Julian's hand tightening slightly. "Are you a superhero?" she asked innocently.
May you like
Martha laughed—a genuine, hearty sound that echoed off the stone pillars of the courthouse. "No, Lily. Just an auditor. But I know a good family when I see one."
With a final wave, Martha turned and walked down the steps toward the parking lot, her briefcase swinging at her side.
