Chapter 9: The Motion
Gerald Fitch had filed the motion at 2:17 p.m., forty minutes after Robert walked out of the county detention center.
The motion cited Maya's alleged history of emotional instability, referenced the therapist Robert had arranged two years ago, and included a signed statement from a child psychologist I had never heard of — someone named Dr.
Elliot Marsh — claiming that based on a review of available records, Maya exhibited signs of a delusional disorder that warranted immediate evaluation.
Dr.
Marsh had never met Maya.
He had never been in the same room as her.
Hargrove explained this in the shelter's small conference room, Carol beside him, a legal aid attorney named Priya Anand across from me.
Priya had arrived within the hour.
She was sharp-eyed and moved through the motion like someone who had seen its exact shape before.
"This is a pressure tactic," Priya said.
"Fitch knows it won't succeed, but he also knows it will terrify your daughter and destabilize you.
That's the point."
"Can they actually move her?" I asked.
"Not without a hearing.
And not without a judge reviewing the medical evidence from Dr.
Lawson, which directly contradicts the premise of the motion." Priya set the document down.
"The rib fractures alone make this motion extremely difficult to sustain.
A judge is not going to look at imaging showing repeated physical trauma and then agree that the child describing that trauma is delusional."
"When is the hearing?"
"Fitch requested emergency status.
The court will likely schedule it within forty-eight hours." She looked at me steadily.
"Mrs.
Hale, I need you to be present and composed at that hearing.
I need Maya to be willing to speak if the judge asks her directly."
"She'll speak," I said.
I went back to Maya's room and told her what Priya had said.
Maya listened without moving.
"He filed it fast," she said.
"He was ready.
He had that psychologist ready before he even got arrested."
"He's been planning this for a long time," I said.
"He plans everything." She looked at the window.
"Mom, what if the judge believes him?"
"Priya says the medical evidence—"
"I know what Priya says.
But judges believe respected men all the time." She turned to look at me.
"I've read about cases.
I read about them for months.
Trying to understand what I was up against."
I thought about my fifteen-year-old daughter lying awake at night researching case law on her phone while Robert stood in her doorway in the dark.
"There's something that might help," I said.
"Diane Hale spoke to Hargrove today.
She's willing to testify about what Robert asked her to do — the plan to discredit you."
Maya's eyes changed.
"She's real?" she said.
"I thought maybe I'd misread the name.
Or misremembered."
"She's real.
And she's not protecting him anymore."
Maya was quiet for a long moment.
"He picked people who were afraid," she said finally.
"That was always his system.
Find someone afraid and make them useful." She paused.
"He thought I was afraid too."
"You were," I said.
"That didn't stop you."
She almost smiled.
Not quite.
But almost.
The hearing was scheduled for Thursday morning.
Wednesday night, Priya called me at 10 p.m.
"Dr.
Marsh withdrew his statement," she said.
"Why?"
"Hargrove's team contacted the licensing board.
It turns out Marsh has a prior disciplinary record involving a case where he provided testimony that was later found to be fabricated for compensation." She paused.
"He withdrew before we could formally challenge him."
"Fitch lost his expert witness."
"He lost his only expert witness." I could hear the precision in her voice.
"The motion is effectively hollow now.
But Fitch will still appear Thursday.
He'll try something else."
"What?"
"He'll try you," Priya said.
"He'll argue that you coached Maya.
That you have your own reasons for wanting Robert destroyed.
That this is a custody dispute dressed up as a crjme." She paused.
"Be ready for that."
I was ready.
Thursday morning, Robert walked into the courtroom in a charcoal suit.
He looked rested.
He looked like a man who had done nothing wrong and was mildly inconvenienced by having to prove it.
May you like
He looked at me once across the room.
I held his gaze until he looked away.
