Bette’s dark sapphire pantsuit, custom- tailored, hugs her frame with satin-smooth perfection. With deliberate grace she unbuttons her jacket, revealing a double-breasted vest with a daring burst of emerald and mauve jewel tones. Each tap of her glossy crimson-soled Louboutins against the worn marble echoes like a measured beat down the hushed aisle.

Tina, radiant in a flowing, pale lavender silk dress, steps lightly beside Bette, her honey-blonde hair catching the light. With practiced tenderness, she brushes a manicured fingertip across Bette’ s Italian silk tie, straightening its Windsor knot with the practiced ease of shared intimacy that speaks of a thousand mornings together. In a moment unguarded, she presses her rose-tinted lips to Bette’ s in a private, fleeting kiss.

“Love you,” Tina whispers, her voice a soft silk of sound.

“Love you too,” Bette replies, gaze unwavering, before she joins Joyce and the rest of her team at the defense table. Her dark curls tumble over her shoulders, framing a face composed and unreadable, offering no hint of recognition toward Michelle.

Joyce settles into her chair behind a neat stack of tan file folders, the corners aligned with exacting precision. A subtle smile, like the twitch of a curtain in a silent breeze, plays at the corner of her lips.

Moments later, the entire chamber rises on cue, heads lift in unison, feet shuffle softly against the marble—just as the judge appears. Her robe flowing at her ankles, silver hair pinned in a tight bun, she surveys the room with cool authority. A single motion of her gavel summons them to their seats, its wooden echo drifts through the hush.

Before the judge can speak, the doors part again. Kit and the rest of the gang slip inside. They fill the benches behind Tina like a protective wall of solidarity while Kit slides in beside her.

Bette turns, her dark eyes softening for just a beat as she offers them a small, almost faint tilt of her chin in acknowledgment, then refocuses on the bench, her jawline tightening with resolve.

The judge adjusts her slender, metal-framed glasses, the lenses catching stray glints of light. “Good morning. We are here on the matter of Adams-Porter v. Porter, a request for modification of custody and visitation. Counsel, please state your appearances for the record.”