Three months later.
“Are you nervous, man?” Asher asks me as he sticks his feet up on my coffee table. I push them straight off. Honestly, doesn’t he see all this important paperwork right here? The last thing I wanted was dirty shoe prints all over everything. If I was going to win in court tomorrow, I needed to be well presented. Smeared birth certificates and other documents such as DNA results and letters from Hannah that would help me get my kids back were not well presented. Thick tool. He was lucky I didn’t smack across the back of the head. He was only here to give me a lift to the airport. I had a car now, finally and something a bit more child friendly too, but I didn’t want to leave it at the airport. I wasn’t sure when I’d be back after all. Who knew how this thing was going
