“Your Honor, may I help my dad down?” I asked, knowing it wasn’t my place to speak and risking it anyway.

“Yes, Mr. Daniels,” she agreed, her voice softer than before.

The court was silent until my chair shrieked across the polished floor as I pushed back from the table. I approached Dad with shaky knees, my eyes filling with tears I couldn’t shed. Not here. Not like this.

“Dad, let me help you,” I said as I stood next to the witness stand.

“I don’t… Why…?” He finally looked at me. “Why am I here? I want to go home.”

“Yeah, Dad, we’ll get you there, I promise. Come on down.” I held out my hand, but he refused to take it and instead stumbled from the stand.

“No. I’m okay. Don’t touch me. I’m fine!” He walked past me, gaining his balance as he went.

“Walt?” I called out as Simon opened the gate that separated the spectators from this hellhole.

“I got him,” Walt promised as Nikki walked with him to help.

“You,” Dad whispered, turning to me at the threshold.

“It’s me, Dad. Cam. I’m right here.”

His eyes turned cold. “You killed my Sullivan.” The whisper was barely loud enough for me to hear, but I did, and it cut me to the fucking core.

“Come on, Art. Let’s get you home.” Walt put his arm around his best friend and walked him from the courtroom. I stumbled into my seat as the volume of the crowd reached new heights.

Logic told me otherwise, but the rending in my chest overpowered it. I’d lost every member of my family. Sullivan and Mom to death. Dad to Alzheimer’s. Alexander to his own warped sense of good and evil.

The judge called for order as I felt hands on my shoulders. I turned and found Willow leaning over the railing.

“I love you,” she promised, her hazel eyes red and her cheeks blotchy. “I love you.” Her thumbs swiped at my face. “Do you understand me, Camden Daniels? I know your truth. I love you, and I have always loved you. First and always. You.”

“Order!” the judge demanded again, and the noise started to die down.

I kept my focus on Willow, anchoring myself in her eyes and slowly settling my boiling emotions into a soft simmer.

“Willow,” I whispered.

She let go of my face only to push something into my hand. “I’ll be right here. I’m not going anywhere.” Then she sat back in her seat, where her father put his arm around her. Her father, who had recused himself because I was hers. He looked at me with pursed lips and sorrowful eyes.

The crowd quieted, and I opened my palm to see what she’d given me.