Before I could respond, the front door swung open so abruptly that everyone jumped. A tall figure stepped inside, brushing snow off his coat. It was Bradley Hunter, my cousin, the one who had become a lawyer and loved telling everyone he handled complicated family disputes and high-profile mediations. He looked around the room, eyes alert, lips tight. He saw me and immediately started walking toward me with a folder in hand.
I felt my stomach drop.
“Bradley, what are you doing here?”
He didn’t smile. He spoke in that calm, professional voice he used in courtrooms.
“I got a call. From someone who believes Lily’s situation needs formal review. I’m here on behalf of a concerned party.”
My throat tightened.
“Connor,” I said under my breath. “It has to be Connor.”
Bradley continued, “I have documents here outlining a proposed arrangement for shared custody and financial planning. It’s in everyone’s best interest to sign before this gets more complicated publicly.”
The relatives erupted in murmurs. My mom gasped. My dad looked like he was about to explode. James stepped right in front of me, blocking Bradley’s view.
“No,” James said firmly. “Absolutely not.”
Bradley kept his tone neutral.