Financial records.
Club background.
References.
Therapist assessments.
Lily began grief counseling.
Wade did too because Denise made it nearly impossible not to.
The therapist’s name was Dr. Samuel Klein.
Wade hated him immediately.
Dr. Klein said:
“That reaction seems efficient.”
“What?”
“You decided you hate me before I ask anything difficult.”
“I save time.”
The therapist smiled.
“Excellent.”
Wade stared.
“You’re annoying.”
“So I hear.”
They discussed Rebecca and Maya.
Eventually.
The first session Wade spent twelve minutes talking about motorcycles.
The second about Aaron.
The third about why therapy was useless.
By the seventh, he said Maya’s name without his throat closing.
Progress.
One afternoon Dr. Klein asked:
“If Lily left tomorrow, what would you feel?”
Wade answered instantly.
“Relief.”
Dr. Klein waited.
Wade stared.
The therapist continued waiting.
Wade hated silence.
“Fine.”
“What?”
“I’d feel…”
He stopped.
“What?”
“Like somebody died.”
Dr. Klein nodded.
Wade looked furious.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Look right.”
“Would you prefer I look wrong?”
Wade almost laughed.
The custody hearing arrived in April.
Lily wore a navy dress.
Wade wore a suit borrowed from the club president.
It fit badly around the shoulders.
Lily stared.
“You look weird.”
“Thank you.”
“No leather.”
“The judge apparently enjoys disappointment.”
Rachel sat with her husband and attorney across the courtroom.
She looked composed.
Wade did not hate her.
That surprised him.
He understood part of what she wanted.
Aaron was gone.
Lily was the last direct piece of her brother.
Grief could make ownership feel like love.
Wade knew that danger personally.
The judge reviewed reports.
Rachel’s home was safe.
Stable.
Financially comfortable.
She had family support.
Wade’s home was also safe.
Stable enough.
His business profitable.
Community references strong.
The Steel Saints complicated perception but not facts.
No evidence of criminal organizational activity.
Then the judge interviewed Lily privately with a child advocate.
Afterward, Lily returned holding Patches.
The judge addressed both adults.
“A child’s preference does not control guardianship.”
Wade’s stomach tightened.
“But it matters.”
Rachel sat straighter.
The judge continued.
“Lily expressed affection for her aunt and willingness to develop a relationship.”
Rachel’s eyes filled.
Then:
“She also stated clearly that Mr. Mercer is her home.”
Wade stopped breathing.
The judge looked toward him.
“The court is granting permanent guardianship consistent with her father’s designation, subject to continuing contact arrangements with Ms. Hart where appropriate.”
Rachel closed her eyes.
Wade felt no victory.
Only weight.
Permanent.
The word was heavier than any motorcycle engine.
Outside the courthouse, Rachel approached.
Wade expected anger.
Instead she looked exhausted.
“Can I see her?”
Wade looked toward Lily, who stood with Denise near the steps.
“Ask her.”
Rachel nodded.
She walked toward Lily.
Not grabbing.
Not claiming.