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town over, Clayburgh, had been the scene of a major drug bust. Judging by the milling crowd, that trial must also be in recess.
    “Let’s go to Morgan’s,” Ella suggested. “I could really go for a double-shot mochachino.”
    “Whatever,” Olivia said. “I don’t think my stomach could hold a thing.”
    Outside, the day was blustery and gray, making Olivia wish she’d grabbed her coat. If only she knew what the judge was thinking. Usually she was fairly adept at reading judicial expressions, but Marsbury was one tough cookie. From a technical standpoint she’d done fine. But had that been enough? Was this a case that required more than mere legal finesse? Like opening herself up in a public way—something she’d never done before.
    Arms crossed to ward off the cold, she ducked her chin, wishing she’d just stayed in the courthouse.
    The wind tortured still-bare tree limbs. The few spring bulbs that had dared bloom now looked pitiful and defeated, accurately reflecting her mood.
    By the time Ella had gotten her coffee and they’d made the three-block return trek to the courthouse, Olivia was ready to crawl out of her skin. Making matters worse, criminal court must have been back in session, as the lobby was clear except for Tag O’Malley and his attorney.
    When Tag glanced in her direction, she sharply looked away.
    Usually it wasn’t in Olivia’s nature to back down from a challenge, but the closer the time came for the judge to reach a verdict, the more exhausted she’d become. The gravity of her current situation hit her in aching waves.A week ago she hadn’t had a care in the world. Now, in less than ten minutes, she might lose her son.
    “Let’s head in,” Ella said, her hand on Olivia’s back, urging her forward.
    Olivia nodded.
    While waiting for the judge, Olivia wasn’t sure what to do with her hands. It didn’t matter that she’d calmly waited for hundreds of verdicts over the course of her career. This time was obviously different.
    “All rise,” the bailiff said. “Court is now in session.”
    After the judge entered and took his seat, everyone else present sat, as well.
    “Know CPR?” Olivia asked her friend.
    “Relax,” Ella said, patting her hand. “You’ll be fine.”
    “Ms. Marshall, Mr. O’Malley, I want you both to know that I sincerely feel for you. This is not an enviable situation. That said, I had largely decided in favor of the mother. After all, she has thus far borne the brunt of Baby Flynn’s care. However, no offense, Ms. Marshall, but your statement felt more like a technical manual than a heartfelt plea for a mother to keep her child. Mr. O’Malley, your story was the exact opposite. While Ms. Marshall practically has a PhD in child rearing, she lacks heart. You, sir, are short on practical know-how, yet your abundance of warmth more than makes up for Ms Marshall’s rather cold attitude.” Sighing and tidying the papers on the bench, he said, “Weighing allof these facts leads me to only one conclusion. The two of you will share custody. Ideally, you will jointly work out a mutually beneficial visitation schedule. If, however, that cannot be managed, I will appoint a social worker to devise a schedule for you. Let’s hope the two of you can behave in an adult and loving manner, keeping the best interests of your son foremost in mind. Case closed. Court is adjourned.” With a final slam of his gavel, the judge left room, taking with him Olivia’s hope for a happy ending.
    “I’m sorry,” Ella said. “We gave it our best.”
    Sorry didn’t come close to making up for the fact that Olivia had essentially just lost her child.
    A look in Tag’s direction showed him to be all smiles, shaking hands with his attorney and then punching numbers into his cell.
    What she felt for the man was indescribable. On the one hand she wished she’d never met him. On the other, more rational side, she realized that a good part of him was in her son. The son she loved