Chapter 22 - Grant’s Version
Grant’s declaration was thirty-four pages.
It was careful.
Clinical.
And devastating in a different direction.
He denied advising Derrick to create financial instability.
Denied knowingly presenting false evidence.
Denied directing Derrick to conceal accounts.
He described Derrick as “a highly involved client who consistently expressed grave concerns regarding Ms. Carter’s parenting.”
Derrick read that sentence five times.
Rebecca watched him from across the conference table.
“He’s building distance.”
“He’s making me sound insane.”
“He is documenting that custody positions originated with you.”
“Some did.”
Rebecca nodded.
“That’s the problem with partial truths.”
Derrick looked at her.
She did not need to explain the irony.
Grant attached emails.
Many were genuine.
Derrick writing:
I’m tired of Aisha acting like she owns the kids’ schedule.
Another:
I want primary custody. I’m done negotiating every detail.
Another:
If she gets school nights, she’ll control everything forever.
Derrick felt shame rise.
There were no legal arguments in those sentences.
Only resentment.
Grant’s declaration also included an email Derrick had forgotten.
Can we use her move against her? Judge needs to see I’m the stable one.
Derrick covered his mouth.
Rebecca waited.
“He’s right,” Derrick said.
“About?”
“I gave him ammunition.”
“Yes.”
“I wanted him to use it.”
“Yes.”
Derrick looked up.
“So why am I angry?”
“Because being responsible does not mean every other person becomes innocent.”
He absorbed that.
Both can be true.
Again.
Rebecca continued.
“The family-court review is not going to adjudicate your fee dispute with Grant. But the judge may ask questions if these materials relate to corrective findings.”
“What should I say?”
“The truth.”
“That answer is becoming expensive.”
“It was always expensive.”
At the ninety-day review, Judge Porter examined the parents’ compliance.
School attendance stable.
Medical information shared.
Parenting exchanges punctual.
No disparagement reports.
Communication improved.
The judge looked almost surprised.
“This appears to be functioning.”
Naomi stood.
“Yes, Your Honor.”
Rebecca agreed.
Judge Porter turned to Aisha.
“Ms. Carter?”
“Yes.”
“Any concerns regarding the children’s adjustment?”
“They’re doing well.”
“Regarding Mr. Carter’s parenting?”
Aisha glanced at Derrick.
“No safety concerns.”
“Communication?”
“Better.”
Derrick looked at her.
The simplicity of the answer mattered.
Aisha could have punished him with adjectives.
She did not.
Judge Porter turned to Derrick.
“Mr. Carter?”
“The schedule is working.”
“Concerns regarding Ms. Carter?”
“No.”
“None?”
He almost smiled.
“We disagree.”
The judge raised an eyebrow.
“That is permitted.”
A few people in the courtroom laughed softly.
Then the judge addressed the supplemental declaration from Grant.
“I have reviewed former counsel’s submission only insofar as it bears on prior representations.”
Derrick’s stomach tightened.
“It appears responsibility for the prior litigation strategy may be disputed between Mr. Carter and former counsel.”
She looked directly at Derrick.
“This court is not determining professional liability.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“But I want to be clear.”
Her voice hardened.
“A party cannot outsource responsibility for sworn statements to counsel.”
Derrick nodded.
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“What is your understanding?”
Derrick inhaled.
“That I signed them.”
“And?”
“That even if my lawyer framed the language, I was responsible for making sure it was truthful.”
“And?”
Derrick looked toward Aisha.
“That I wanted the outcome those statements were designed to get.”
The courtroom became quiet.
Judge Porter nodded once.
“That is the most direct answer I have heard from you.”
Derrick felt no pride.
Only relief that the sentence had finally been said somewhere official.
Judge Porter made the equal parenting order permanent.
Aisha closed her eyes.
Permanent.
Not because she had proved Derrick terrible.
Because both parents had finally agreed the children deserved both of them.
The judge maintained the corrective findings.
Then added one sentence at Naomi’s request.
The prior reduction of Mother’s parenting time should not be interpreted as a finding that Mother was unfit.
Aisha’s hand tightened around Naomi’s.
Done.
Not erased.
But corrected.
Outside court, reporters did not wait.
No crowd.
No dramatic music.
Just fluorescent hallway lights.
Aisha stood beside Derrick near the same bench where they had sat months earlier.
“It’s permanent,” he said.
“Yes.”
“You okay?”
She considered.
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“So am I.”
For several seconds they stood quietly.
Then Aisha asked, “What happens with Grant?”
“Separate dispute.”
“Are you going after him?”
“I don’t know.”
She looked at him.
“Make sure you’re doing it for the right reason.”
Derrick almost laughed.
“You’re giving me advice now?”
“No.”
She picked up her bag.
“I’m warning you not to make another war your personality.”
That actually made him laugh.
Aisha walked away.
Then Derrick’s phone buzzed.
A message from Rebecca.
He opened it.
Grant has offered to waive the $43,000 balance if you sign a mutual non-disparagement and release.
Derrick stared.
It was tempting.
Forty-three thousand dollars.
An end.
Silence purchased by money.
He thought of Aisha.
Of partial truths.
Of convenient settlements.
Then another message arrived.
There is one condition: you would agree not to claim Grant encouraged aggressive custody positions.
Derrick’s hand tightened around the phone.
The old version of him would have asked only one question.
How much does this save me?
The new question arrived first.
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What would signing make true?
For once, Derrick decided not to answer immediately.
