Page 40 of Cut Off
My mouth goes dry.
The woman’s got the kind of posture you only get from a lifetime of Pilates and narcissism. She glides past Zoe, gives her a quick once-over, then does a double-take when she sees me.
Because that hair, that snarl of bone-white highlights? That’s Rosie’s mother. The monster under every bed in Rosie’s nightmares. Deadbeat in pearls.
My pulse thuds in my ears.
Gwen sits beside me, legs crossed, purse perched on her knee.
My stomach drops through the floor.
Zoe leans in,real quiet. “Who’s that?”
I don’t move my lips. “Rosie’s mother.”
Zoe’s eyebrows go up, and I can practically hear her newsy brain filing this under “dangerous.”
Gwen’s eyes flick to me. She sizes me up, gives a nod, then looks bored. That’s her tell—the fake indifference, the way she always acts like nothing can touch her.
Except her daughter’s dead. And I hope to hell she feels guilty as fuck because she was a worthless mother, and everyone knows it.
The judge, with his doughy face and receding hairline, jumps right in. “We’re on the record for the matter of Eli Anders,” he says, all gravel and no patience. “Mr. Holt, you currently have temporary custody. Ms. Hernandez is Eli’s caseworker.”
He glances at the social worker, then at Gwen. “Ms. Anders, you are the biological maternal grandmother?”
Gwen gives her best PTA smile. “That’s correct, Your Honor.”
My stomach churns. She manipulated Rosie, and it seems like she’s never even met Eli.
I might be a stranger, but Gwen’s worse—she’s the reason Rosie lived in fear.
The judge shuffles his papers. “You’ve brought a petition to challenge Mr. Holt’s custody.”
“That’s correct, Your Honor.” She pivots in her seat, giving me this sad look. “I wish it hadn’t come to this.”
Bullshit. You live for this.
She launches right in. “My late daughter, Rosie, was a remarkable young woman. She worked hard her whole life and loved Eli with every fiber of her being. And she made choices I believe were in Eli’s best interest—including limiting contact with Mr. Holt.”
“That’s not true,” I cut in.
Except itistrue, but it’s not for the reason the judge will assume.
And how was making it so Eli never knew his father a good decision? Making him think I abandoned him when I had no idea—
Gwen doesn’t let up. “Rosie never told Mr. Holt about Eli because—frankly—she didn’t trust him. She didn’t trust his judgment, his lifestyle, or his ability to provide a stable environment for a child.” She folds her hands.
Fucking bullshit.
I keep those words in my head, but just barely. Again, I say, “Not true.”
She continues, “Mr. Holt is a professional hockey player, constantly traveling, frequently in the news for aggression on the ice or off. He’s been in a bar fight.”
“That was over three years ago,” I cut in, my blood boiling.
The judge glares at me. “Mr. Holt, you’ll have your turn. Now be quiet before I throw you out of here for being in contempt.”
I swallow hard. “Yes, Your Honor.”
