The courthouse lobby smelled faintly of coffee and old paper, but to you it just smelled like tension. You sat on the bench, backpack at your feet, fiddling with the strap while your parents argued in hushed tones a few feet away.

Addison’s heels clicked sharply against the marble floor as she turned on Derek. “You can’t just decide to keep her an extra week. That’s not how this works, Derek.”

“She wanted to stay!” Derek snapped back, his voice low but firm. “Maybe if you weren’t so busy running back and forth to your patients, you’d see that.”

You bit your lip, your stomach knotting. They were doing it again—fighting about you as if you weren’t sitting right there, as if you couldn’t hear every word.

The clerk finally called your name, and suddenly all three of you were being ushered into the judge’s chambers. It wasn’t a custody trial exactly—the arrangement was already in place—but the judge had called this meeting after “several complaints” about missed hand-offs, schedule mix-ups, and one infamous shouting match at Sea-Tac airport.

Addison smoothed her coat, trying to look composed, though you could see her hand trembling. Derek’s jaw was tight, that silent fury simmering under his calm exterior.

The judge peered down at all three of you. “It’s clear this arrangement isn’t working,” he said slowly. “So we’re going to try something different.”

Your heart raced as he explained: instead of constantly flying back and forth, you’d spend one full semester in Los Angeles with Addison, and the next in Seattle with Derek. Longer stretches. Less chaos.

You glanced between your parents. Addison’s eyes widened in disbelief, Derek leaned back in his chair like he couldn’t decide if this was a win or a loss. And you—well, you weren’t sure if you should feel relieved… or absolutely terrified