Page 120 of The Redemption of Remy St. Claire

Sure enough, Sissy was there. She wore an ill-fitting dress, and carried an ugly oversized faux leather purse. Her hair was a riot of untamed curls, and her face was bare of make-up. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she fidgeted.

Poor woman—she was so clearly uncomfortable.

A courtroom could intimidate, but Sissy’d seen the inside of one before. In fact, they had arraigned her on the child endangerment charges in a room similar to this one, just down the hall.

The judge’s door opened, and Remy faced the front of the courtroom as the robed official entered.

With little fanfare, the judge glanced down at the papers on his desk. “Stevens.”

Rusty and Remy rose, and the judge pointed to one of the tables.

Sissy must’ve stepped forward as well because the judge pointed to the other table.

When everyone was seated, the judge looked between the two parties. “This is family court, not criminal. I like to keep things informal but civil. If there’s going to be rancor, tell me now.” He paused for effect. “Is everyone agreed?”

“Yes, sir.” Rusty and Sissy spoke in unison.

“Yes, Your Honor.” Remy felt compelled to add her agreement.

The judge glanced up. “Ms. St. Claire, nice to see you. Not exactly your jurisdiction.”

“Extenuating circumstances, Judge.”

“Well, good enough.” He glanced down at his papers. “We’re here to determine the custody of Miracle Stevens.” He looked at the group. “Please identify yourself and state your position in this matter.”

There was a momentary hesitation and Remy nudged Rusty under the table. “I’m Russell Stevens, your honor. I’m Miracle’s father.”

“I’m Sissy Smith. Her mother.”

Sissy’s voice was so quiet, Remy strained to hear it.

“Speak up.”

Sissy stood. “My name is Sissy Smith, and I’m Miracle’s mother. I’m just here to say I’m not contesting this…this…whatever this is.”

The judge eyed Sissy. “This is a petition to permanently sever your parental rights. This is a very serious matter. You should have legal representation, as your ex-husband does.”

“She’s also his new wife, sir.” Sissy shook her head. “I can’t compete with them—and I won’t try. If Rusty says this is what’s best for Mira, then who am I to argue? I just showed up today so it would be, you know, on the record. That I’m giving up. That they’ve won.”

Remy shot to her feet. “Yes, I am Mr. Stevens’ new wife, and it is in that capacity that I’m here today, not as an attorney. I’m not sure what Ms. Smith is referring to when she says we’ve won. We’re seeking permanent custody for all the reasons laid out in our petition.” She turned to Sissy. “This isn’t a game or competition. No one will win here today.”

Sissy shrugged, her threadbare dress barely moving. “I’m saying there’s nothing I can do to prove I’m fit to be Mira’s mother, so there’s no point in wasting everyone’s time.”

“Ladies, please sit down. This is informal.”

Remy sat but Sissy remained standing.

“I want it to be on the record that I love my daughter and would do anything for her. If that means walking away, then so be it. I’m not fighting this. I’ll walk away today, and Mira will never see me again.” She picked up her purse and headed for the door.

“Your Honor, may I have a moment?” Panic encroached, wrapping Remy’s gut. This was way too easy. Way too tidy. The one thing she’d learned about Rusty’s ex-wife was she left chaos and mess in her wake. This had to be some kind of trick.

“Take a moment, Ms. St. Claire. In fact, why don’t we break for lunch? I shouldn’t have started so close to noon anyway.” He stood. “I expect to see the three of you back here at one o’clock.”

Sissy held up her hand.

The judge scowled. “Yes?”

“I thought we settled all this. I’m done. I’m not coming back. I said this once, and I’ll say it again. I relinquish custody of my daughter to these two. I don’t know how to be any more clear.”

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