The court house was an older building located in the downtown area. It had immaculate architecture with oval shaped windows, large pillars resembling greek ruins, and a statue of lady justice standing in the center of a dome shaped roof. Her eyes were blindfolded, and she held balanced scales in her right hand.

Please don't turn a blind eye to my situation, I silently prayed while walking up the marble steps leading to the front doors. Please don't let Steven have full custody of our son.

I exhaled sharply, thrust the heavy slabs of wood open, and entered the foyer. I was greeted by a guard standing behind a table placed next to a metal detector.

I placed my purse into a basket for him to sift through, then paced under the metal rods when he beckoned me forward with a wave of his hand.

"You're good to go," the guard said with a pleasant nod.

I swiftly picked up my belongings and slung the strap over my shoulder before hunting down my attorney. Just before I walked up the stairs, my cell vibrated within my purse. I quickly reached for it and checked the message glowing on my screen.

Ms. Thompson: Hello Cheyanne, we found your son wandering in the front yard of the school. He was brought in by a supervisor and was escorted to his classroom.

My blood boiled.

Steven! What the Hell! You can't even properly drop off our son at school?

I replied to the text and explained that my ex husband was in town and had taken Oliver to school that morning.

A reply immediately flashed onto my screen.

Ms. Thompson: Please make sure Oliver either takes the bus or is escorted into the building next time. We can't have him wandering around the schoolyard unattended.

Cheyanne: Understood.

Even though I was walking and texting at the same time, I spotted my lawyer from the corner of my eyes and promptly made a bee line towards him.

"Hey Mr. Wade," I said before holding the message from Ms. Thompson for him to see. "Can we use this in court today too?"

My attorney frowned as he quickly scanned through the text. "That won't be enough evidence to use against Steven, I'm afraid."

My heart sank within my chest.

"Those videos you emailed me last night of him assaulting your sister will be used today, however."

A small bit of relief flooded through my veins.

"Your ex husband doesn't have a case against you. He's not getting full custody."

I gave a slight nod of my head.

"You look nice by the way," Mr. Wade added while gesturing towards my white dress and navy blue top. "I've had to deal with people wearing profanities on their clothes that diss their ex, and trust me, that never goes over well with the judge."

I glanced over my attorney's outfit. He wore a black suite with a white collared shirt beneath. It was a classic look that you couldn't go wrong with.

"Ready?" Mr. Wade asked. He gave me a small reassuring smile, and that helped calm the ever increasing rapid beats of my heart.

"Yeah," I sighed.

Together, we walked into the courtroom. It was large and spacious with several rows of chairs neatly lined up on either side of the room. A tall wooden desk reserved for the judge took up the front. My ex husband was seated on the left side of the room with his attorney, who was a woman I hadn't met yet. I spotted his parents sitting down in a row of seats behind him.

Steven was dressed in black pants and a white collared shirt. I noticed he had buzzed his hair, and it reminded me of when he had been in the Navy.

I avoided eye contact with all of them. Mr. Wade had explained to me that I needed to stay cool, calm and collected. There was no need to break down and cry, there was no need to get angry and defensive. Steven didn't have a case against me and I had nothing to worry about.

We didn't have to wait long before the judge entered the room. We all rose in respect.

"We'll call court to order," the older man dressed in a long black gown said in a loud voice. "I'm District Judge Dawn Yeager. This is the time set for an interim order hearing. Cheyanne Daniels is represented by Jordan Wade, and Steven Daniels is here represented by Kelsey Banks. Are we ready to proceed, Mr. Wade?"

My attorney gave a curt nod. "Yes we are, your honor."

"Ms. Banks?"

Steven's lawyer stood a little straighter as she swiveled her blond head in the judge's direction. "Yes, your honor."

The judge sat down. We we all copied him and sank into our cold, stiff chairs.

"Any motions?" Judge Yeager asked as he pushed his glass up from the edge of his round nose. "Sequestration of witnesses?"

"We would move for witness sequestration, your honor," Mr. Wade replied.

The judge waved his hand. "Mr. Daniels, come here."

My ex husband rose from his seat and waddled over to the stand. Once he sat down, my attorney got up to cross examine him.

"Please state your full name," Mr. Wade said in a monotone voice.

"Steven Bradley Daniels."

"Where do you currently reside?"

"I'm currently..." Steven hesitated. "My place of residence that's permanent is in Grand Forks North Dakota..."

My stomach churned in disgust.

He's lying! He's not living at home with me, he left weeks ago!

"My temporary residence is in Miami Florida."

"How long have you been living in Florida, Steven?" Mr. Wade asked.

"Can you be more specific, please, sir?" my ex husband stalled. "What do you mean? Do you mean... do you mean, like... what do you mean by that?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

Mr. Wade's face was deadpan. "I just want to know how long you've been living in Florida? That's it."

"I was originally born in-"

"I'm not asking about where you were born," Mr. Wade cut him off. "Answer the question for how long you've been living in Florida."

"I lived there for the first nineteen years of my life, and then I joined the military for three years. And then I moved around a lot..." Steven paused and scrunched up his face in thought. "Then I had only been living there the last, well, since the divorce was filed. Well, not the divorce, but the stipulation was filed."

I kept my eyes glued to the corner of the room and did my best to drown out his voice. The last thing I needed to do was exhibit any emotions on my face.

The topic of conversation gradually moved towards our son.

"Does he have any special needs?" my attorney asked Steven.
"He was diagnosed with Asperger's syndrome, but I need to get a second opinion on that. So the answer is up in the air."

Autism, I sighed inwardly. Oliver was diagnosed with Autism by two different psychologists.

Mr. Wade raised an eyebrow. "So you're not convinced that that's an accurate diagnosis?"

"No, I am not."

"Why is that?"

"Because whenever my wife had taken him to the psychologist, and I looked at the psychologist's notes, she had left out about the turmoil that's been happening in our family since his birth, and all the things that have happened from then until even now."

I wanted to smack my face to my forehead, but I resisted the urge.

Mr. Wade shuffled the papers in his hands. "So you don't believe that he suffers from this special needs affliction?"

"I'm not a specialist, so I can't answer that question," Steven said while shrugging his shoulders.

"Why would you want a second opinion?"

"Because I don't think it was handled in a professional fashion."

Two psychologists observed him separately and both came to the same conclusion! What the Hell are you talking about?

"I wasn't able to attend the appointment, so I don't think it was done correctly."

Mr. Wade paused briefly, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing, before continuing his questions. "You asked in your responsive pleadings to be awarded primary residential responsibility. Are you aware of that?"

"Yes sir," Steven nodded. "Fully aware."

"Okay, where would you reside with your child?"

"In the marital household."

My insides squirmed with fear and rage. He wants to live with me again... He wants me back under his thumb... Never again! I'd rather die than be with him again!

"And this is the same household that you voluntarily absented some weeks ago, is that correct?"

"Well, I wouldn't say voluntary, that's not my position on what happened."

Mr. Wade took a step closer. "Were you thrown out forcibly?"

"I was threatened multiple times and had the cops called on me on a number of occasions."

I could feel Steven's gaze resting upon me as I continued staring at the corner of the room.

"I felt forcibly removed from that position due to the amount of duress that I was underneath," my ex added.

"Did someone lay hands on you to get you to leave?" my attorney clarified with his question.

"There is a number of forms of ways that people-"

"Yes or no question, sir," my attorney reiterated. "Did somebody lay hands on you to get you out of that house?"

"I would say psychological hands."

I managed to swallow the laughter building up in my throat.

Mr. Wade blinked back his shock. "So, your answer is no?"

"The answer depends on the definition of hands."

I was amazed that my attorney could keep a straight face.

"Okay, I'll let the answer stand," Mr. Wade responded before launching into another question. "Who took care of your child while you were working?"

"My wife."

"And who would you say spent more time taking care of Oliver?"

"I would argue that it was evenly split, if not weighing towards me."

I clenched my fists at my sides. Every lie he told, no matter how small, infuriated me.

"Does Cheyanne know how to properly clothe your child?"

"There have been times when she hasn't."

Anger rose in my chest, but I suppressed it. I had to remind myself that the judge wasn't stupid, that this wasn't his first rodeo. I had to trust that he and everyone else would see straight through Steven's lies.

"Is Cheyanne capable of properly feeding your son?"

"I don't know the answer."

"Why is that?" my attorney dug in.

"It's just that, I don't even feel like Cheyanne has really been raising my son."

"So, it sounds like you're a vital part of the day-to-day upbringing of Oliver, is that true?"

Steven puffed his chest out slightly from the stand. "Yes sir."

"So much so that you felt the need to go to Florida?"

I almost cracked a grin from my seat, but kept my mouth rigid.

"The, the reason for that, um," Steven stammered as if he had been slapped in the face. "Is that, is a that a yes or no question?"

"Answer it however you would like," Mr. Wade said simply.

"I went to Florida because of the immense pressure that was put on me-"

"Yes, you mentioned that already," Mr. Wade interrupted. "What I'm trying to figure out is, the question is based around the fact that you say your presence on a day-to-day regular basis is to vital and necessary, because Cheyanne is not able to raise your son to the extent that you thought. Yet, you would just move to Florida. Is that true or untrue?"

"Can you rephrase? I'm having a difficult time understanding your question."

Mr. Wade glanced up at the judge before trying again. "Did you plan on staying in Grand Forks?"

"I was planning on doing online parenting from Florida."

My attorney, his face expressionless, gave a curt nod. "I have no further questions, your honor."

I dared to glance up at Judge Dawn Yeager and noticed that his eyes were wide, as if he was having trouble digesting what he had just heard. "Cross-examination?"

Steven's attorney, Kelsey Banks, rose from her seat as my attorney sat down next to me.

Despite hearing all the lies Steven had spewed from the stand, I had managed to keep myself together.

What other crazy, bizarre lies will he tell next?

*All the dialogue in this chapter is actually from our divorce hearing. I bought a copy of the recorded text because of how insane my ex's testimony was.