She busied her hands making tea so that he wouldn’t see them tremble. “The courts favor the biological parent,” she went on. “If Stella Brewer makes a fuss, a judge might give her another chance.”

“So what will you do?” he asked simply, as if there was no question in his mind that she had a plan.

She liked that about him. A lot. He hadn’t once questioned her competency, when so many men had.

Even Adrian had, and even though she knew he’d been striking out at the time, emotionally devastated and in pain, his words had hurt. Are you happy now? I hope you’re a better doctor than you were a lover.

She pushed the words away, focusing on the ones that mattered. The kids need me. Michael needs me.

“I want to get Michael x-rayed, to document previous abuse. He said that his mother took him to different clinics, always giving false names. If I can pull one or two of those records into the open and match them with a scar or a healed break, we can show gross negligence on her part and endangerment of a child. She might not have caused that particular injury, but she left him in an environment where she knew he was being abused. That way, if she tries to say she threw a bowl at his head because of the stress of her missing husband, we can show this has been a pattern all along.”

“What can I do to help you?”

Which was exactly what she’d expected him to ask, even as she’d dreaded it. He offered his support so sweetly. No strings. He should want strings. He should demand them.

“For now, nothing. I may need you to do some creative searching later, though, if I can’t find what I’m looking for on my own.”

“You only need to ask.”

She swallowed hard, because that statement was rife with nuance and double meaning. “I know.” The kettle boiled and she poured water into the teapot and carried it to the table. “I’ll start by asking Michael what he remembers about the clinics he was taken to. I hate to upset him, but he’s going to find out sooner or later that his mother is making noises about getting Joshua back. I’d rather he hear it from us.”

Us. The word had flowed from her mouth before she’d realized it was coming. She hadn’t intended to say it, even though it was truly one of the nicest words. And right now, one of the scariest.

He hadn’t missed her slip and his dark eyes flashed with something hopeful.

Which made her feel even worse. So she powered through. “But for now, I’d like to look at that list of businesses, so we can figure out who LJM was. Have you heard from Jeremy O’Bannion?”