“As for your son, Thomas Jackson ‘T. J.’ Haynes, who is seventeen years of age, though I would certainly recommend that he also stay with the Hendersons, it is the court’s decision to allow T. J. to decide where he wants to live.” Woodruff stood and motioned with his hand to the back of the courtroom. “T. J., will you please approach the bench?”

Bo looked over his shoulder and watched his son stride down the aisle. Even under such dire conditions, Bo couldn’t help but swell with pride as he watched his boy walk with poise and confidence toward the bench. T. J. was a junior at Huntsville High and had scholarship offers to play basketball at Vanderbilt, Middle Tennessee State, and Auburn. At six feet two and 180 pounds, he wasn’t quite as tall or thick as his father, but T. J.’s sleek build was perfect for cutting around screens as a shooting guard.

“Have you made your decision, young man?” the judge asked, his tone a hair softer.

T. J. gazed over his shoulder at Bo, who gave him a firm nod.

For a moment, father and son stared at each other, but finally T. J. peered back up at the judge. “I want to live with my grandfather,” T. J. said, his voice resigned.

“Very well,” Woodruff said, wrinkling up his mouth in what must have constituted a smile for His Honor, though it looked to Bo more like a grimace. “You may return to your seat.”

T. J. did as he was told but not before shooting his father a glance and ignoring the outstretched hand of Ezra Henderson.

“With respect to visitation,” Judge Woodruff continued, his voice turning arctic again as he took off his spectacles and held them by the frames, “I agree with the schedule proposed by Ms. Hoffpower.”

Every other weekend and holiday, Bo thought, gritting his teeth but again forcing his face to register no emotion.