Chapter 3 - The Custody War
I hired the best family lawyers in New York City. I wanted emergency custody of Lily the moment Clara passed. But Arthur Vance was a man with endless resources, and he fought dirty.
Three days later, child protective services showed up at St. Jude’s.
"We have an anonymous report that the child, Lily, is living in an unsafe environment and that her mother is unfit," the CPS worker announced, holding a clipboard.
I was sitting by Clara's bed, holding her frail hand. Lily was asleep in my lap. I stood up, my billionaire instincts kicking in.
"Who filed the report?" I demanded.
"It's anonymous, sir. We're here to take the child to a state facility."
"Over my dead body," I growled. I pulled out my phone and dialed the governor—a man whose campaign I had heavily funded. "Governor? It's Julian Vance. Call off the CPS dogs at St. Jude's in Queens, or I'm pulling my super-PAC funding."
Ten minutes later, the social worker received a phone call, turned pale, and left.
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Clara looked at me, tears streaming down her face. "He's trying to take her, Julian. He wants her in the system so she disappears."
"He will never touch her," I swore, looking down at Lily's sleeping face. "She's a Vance. And she's coming home with me."
