Chapter 6 - The Whispering Gallery
Eleanor Vance did not confine her campaign to the courtroom. Oakridge society was a closed circuit of country clubs, charity galas, and school boards. Rumors propagated like weeds.
When Sarah took Nora to the central clinic for her mandatory quarterly pulmonary assessment, the receptionist whispered behind the acrylic partition. Parents Sarah had known for years turned their backs in the waiting area, murmuring about "Julian’s unstable widow" who was "parading his mother in the papers."
"Mommy, why is Mrs. Kensington looking at us like that?" Nora asked, looking up from her coloring book.
"Don't worry about them, sweetheart," Sarah replied, smoothing Nora’s hair.
Out from the inner corridor stepped Arthur Sterling, Eleanor’s lead counsel. He was a sleek man in a bespoke charcoal suit, carrying a silver-trimmed briefcase. He stopped beside Sarah’s bench, offering a veneer of sympathy.
"Sarah," he said smoothly. "Mrs. Vance doesn't wish to see Nora in a state-run facility if your resources fail. She is prepared to establish a half-million-dollar trust in your name, provided you relinquish primary custody and relocate out of the state."
Sarah stood up. Though five inches shorter than the attorney, she locked eyes with him without flinching. "Tell Eleanor that every dime she owns couldn't buy a single breath from my daughter. If she approaches us again, I will have the bailiffs add a witness tampering charge to her docket."
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Sterling’s smile turned thin and brittle. "Courts favor stability, Sarah. You live above a boat shop. Think about what is best for the child."
"I am," Sarah said. "That’s why she’s staying with me."
