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Then the police.
By noon, Stephanie had been arrested on charges of trespassing, impersonation, and administering a substance to a minor without consent.
Because he had facilitated this.
He hadn’t protected Lucas. He had enabled Stephanie, allowed her access behind my back. He hadn’t signed her in at the school — but his silence had been a key that unlocked the door.
My lawyer filed for emergency temporary custody the next day.
Brian tried to fight it, of course. But the judge saw the security footage. Read the police report. Heard how Brian didn’t call 911. Didn’t go to the school. Didn’t even show up to the hospital until eight hours later — after I demanded he meet with the doctor.
The judge granted me full legal custody pending investigation.
Brian’s face in the courtroom was pale, stunned, almost childlike.
“How could you do this to me?” he asked outside.
“How could you risk our son’s life and act like it was my job to fix it?” I replied.
Meanwhile, Stephanie’s background check revealed a history of mental health issues, prior custody suspensions, and two restraining orders in another state — all things Brian had failed to mention.
The district issued an apology and launched a full review of school entry procedures. The principal was placed on administrative leave.
It wasn’t justice. Not yet.
But it was accountability.
Three weeks later, Lucas was back to normal. I watched him sleep one night, a hint of a frown still in his brow even while resting. It reminded me how fragile his safety had become — how quickly it had been compromised.
He never mentioned Stephanie again. And I never brought her up.
I changed our locks. Moved us to a new place closer to my parents. Changed Lucas’s school.
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