The wood-paneled courtroom hummed with low whispers—until a small but steady voice cut through the noise.
“I’M MY MOM’S LAWYER”
The words came from eight-year-old Lucas Reed, and they landed like a shockwave.
Judge Margaret Collins paused mid-motion, her glasses halfway down her nose as she stared at the thin boy standing alone at the front row, his blazer clearly borrowed and his glasses sliding down his face. Across the aisle, Daniel Cross, a wealthy real estate investor from New York, stiffened in his chair.
“This is a custody hearing,” the judge said carefully. “Not a classroom presentation.”
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