"Mr. Vance," Judge Thorne snapped, her voice instantly snapping back to freezing temperatures. "If you speak to this child again without my explicit permission, I will hold you in contempt and have you removed from my courtroom in handcuffs. Am I understood?"
Julian’s jaw tightened. "Yes, Your Honor. I apologize. I’m just a concerned father."
Judge Thorne turned her attention back to my six-year-old daughter. "Take your time, Maya."
Maya took a deep, shaky breath. Her little fingers reached into the pocket of her cardigan, bypassing the worn stuffed rabbit she carried everywhere. She pulled out an old, cracked iPad Mini—the one Julian had discarded months ago, claiming the battery was dead.
"May I show you something Mommy doesn't know about?" Maya asked, her voice trembling but remarkably clear.
The child advocate standing beside Maya looked momentarily surprised, glancing at me. I shook my head slightly. I truly had no idea what was on that device.
"Bring the tablet forward, please," Judge Thorne instructed the bailiff.