Page 76 of Louder Than Words

“Now,” Judge Reinbeck says, settling back in her chair, “who would like to begin?”

Before I can even process what’s happening, Trevor cuts through any thoughts I’m trying to gather.

“I would, Your Honor,” he says, sounding so sure of himself.

She nods.

He stands, a slight smirk tugging at his lips as he begins. “We’re here today, Your Honor, because I truly believe my two daughters, Charlotte and Lydia Monroe, should be in my care full time. Their mother, Allison Windsor, doesn’t have their best interests in mind.”

He pauses, eyes flicking toward me before continuing. “She’s too focused on living a lavish lifestyle with her current boyfriend—someone who leads the true rock star life. I’m worried about the kind of environment the girls will be exposed to: late nights, unsafe people, drugs and alcohol. It’s not a stable household for the girls anymore.”

A scoff slips out before I can catch it, and I clamp my mouth shut, cheeks burning.

Judge Reinbeck’s gaze snaps to mine, clearly unimpressed.

Someone kill me, please.

“Mr. Monroe, is there anything concrete behind this allegation? Because from where I’m sitting, it sounds like you just disapprove of who the defendant is dating.”

“Am I able to submit proofs, Your Honor?”

My head snaps toward him as he starts pulling paper after paper from his folder.

What could he possibly have?

“Very well. Roger, would you grab those, please?”

My eyes stay locked on the bailiff as he crosses the room, scoops up the stack, and hands it to Judge Reinbeck. And I just sit there—frozen.

Judge Reinbeck flips through the papers, skimming each one in silence. Her brow lifts slightly as she reaches the third page.

“A statement from a witness,” Judge Reinbeck says, glancing over the top of the page. “Someone claiming they saw Ms. Windsor and Mr. Owens arguing on a hotel balcony during the band’s album release party in Boston.”

My stomach drops.

That wasn’t a fight. Not like that. Yeah, I was upset—frustrated, crying—but I don’t remember yelling. And Jax? He was trying to calm me down, not escalate it. We were out there for barely five minutes. Plus, the girls weren’t even there. But hearing it described like that—like we were some toxic couple who gets into fights like that—makes my stomach twist.

It’s mortifying. And it’s far from true.

“Your Honor, that’s not—”

“Ms. Windsor left our daughters at home with her mother so she could go and party,” Trevor cuts in smoothly. “And apparently fight with Mr. Owens. On the night ofHalloween.”

The word Halloween rolls off his tongue like it means something, like it somehow matters here. He knows damn well he had the girls this year, so it shouldn’t matter what I was doing on my own time.

“Your Honor, there’s more,” he adds. “She also went on vacation in July, where she met Mr. Owens, and didn’t bother checking on her daughters the entire month she was gone—”

“Trevor, that is not true and you know it!” Ana shouts from behind me, her voice shaking with anger.

I wince.

“Miss, I will not tolerate this in my courtroom. Either you settle down, or you’re out,” Judge Reinbeck snaps, voice loud enough to echo through the room.

I turn, looking pleadingly between Ana and Jax. He tries to give me a reassuring smile, but I can see it—the way his jaw is clenched so tight it could crack.

He’s just as pissed and hurt as I am.

“Ms. Windsor, are these allegations true?” the judge asks, but her voice isn’t as cold and stern as it was moments ago.