Finally, the judge looked up.
“Ma’am, your petition is denied. Any future guardianship claim must be approved by this court first.”
“Rowan, don’t do this.”
Denise gripped her pearls. “Your Honor, I only wanted what was best.”
Behind her, Uncle Warren finally looked up.
“Denise,” he said quietly, “you told me they asked you to step in.”
Denise didn’t answer.
For the first time since Mom’s funeral, someone in that family looked at her instead of me.
The judge turned to Mrs. Dalrymple. “And your request?”
“I only wanted what was best.”
The old woman straightened. “I want to be listed as emergency caregiver, if Rowan lets me. He should pick up his studies again. Marianne and Eric raised fine children, but Rowan has goodness in his bones.”
I looked at her. “You really want that?”
She snorted. “Child, I’ve been feeding your army for three years. Of course.”
After court, Benji held up the photo. “Would Mom be mad I found it?”
“No,” I said. “She’d be proud. You saved us, Ben. You saved us from being separated.”
Lila read the back softly. “Rowan will know what to do.”
“You really want that?”
That night, I wrote Mrs. Dalrymple’s name on the emergency sheet.
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