Chapter 48
I wanted them to have the best. You did it for yourself. The judge snapped. She slammed the folder shut. The sound echoed like a gunshot. I have heard enough. She picked up her gavvel. She did not hesitate. She did not consult with her clerk in the matter of Slater versus Slater. The court finds that the defendants Austin and Monica Slater have demonstrated a gross and criminal disregard for the physical, emotional, and financial well-being of their children.
The court finds them unfit in every definition of the word. She looked at me. Mister William Slater is hereby granted full permanent legal and physical custody of Leo Slater and Mia Slater. She turned back to Austin and Monica. Furthermore, the judge continued, ‘I am granting the petition to terminate parental rights.
You have forfeited the privilege of being parents. You will have no contact with these children until they are 18, and only then if they choose to find you, which given what I have seen today, I highly doubt they will. Number Monica screamed. She jumped up, knocking her chair over. You cannot do this. They are my babies.
I built my brand around them. You are ruining my image. Baleiff removed them. The judge ordered without looking up. Two deputies moved in. They grabbed Monica by the arms. She was thrashing, screaming about her rights, screaming about her followers, screaming that it was all a conspiracy. Austin did not fight.
He slumped in the arms of the officers, his legs dragging on the floor, a dead weight of shame and regret. I watched them go. I watched the heavy oak doors swing shut behind them. The silence that followed was not empty. It was full. It was full of relief. It was full of the promise of safety. The judge looked at me, her face softened.
Mr. Slater, she said, ‘Good luck. You have a lot of work ahead of you. Raising children at your age is not easy.’ I stood up. I buttoned my jacket. I felt stronger than I had in years. I have done hard things before your honor. I said, ‘This is not hard. This is necessary.’ We walked out of the courtroom.
Rachel walked beside me, putting a hand on my shoulder. ‘It is over, Bill,’ she said. ‘They are gone. The federal trial for the fraud starts next month, but they will not be coming home. The house is safe. The kids are safe.’ I nodded. I walked to the window at the end of the hallway. I looked down at the street.