Chapter Four — The Petition
Martin Blake began carefully.
He argued that David and Clara had acted out of concern.
He described months of alleged confusion.
Missed appointments.
Suspicious behavior.
Poor judgment.
He said they had reluctantly concluded that court intervention was necessary.
Reluctantly.
I almost admired the word.
Clara sat beside him with a solemn expression she had clearly practiced.
David looked down.
Judge Moreno listened.
Then he asked, “What is the emergency?”
Martin hesitated.
“Possible dissipation of assets.”
“What assets?”
“Real estate holdings, brokerage accounts, trusts.”
“Amounts?”
“We do not have complete information.”
“So you’re seeking emergency control over assets you cannot identify.”
“Our clients estimate the estate may be substantial.”
“How substantial?”
David finally spoke.
“Possibly three million.”
Rebecca made a tiny note.
I knew that gesture.
She had just found something useful.
Judge Moreno looked toward David.
“You’re an attorney?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Then you know better than to speak while represented.”
David’s face reddened.
“Yes, Your Honor.”
Judge Moreno turned to Rebecca.
“Ms. Shaw.”
Rebecca stood.
“We oppose every request.”
“I assumed.”
“We also request immediate dismissal.”
“Grounds?”
“Fraud on the court.”
That changed the room.
Martin slowly turned toward his clients.
Clara whispered something.
David said nothing.
Rebecca continued.
“My client anticipated an attempt to interfere with her finances after a series of unauthorized access attempts involving expired family credentials.”
Martin stood.
“Objection to characterization.”
“This is not testimony yet,” Moreno said. “Sit.”
Rebecca opened our folder.
“My client voluntarily underwent a full neurocognitive evaluation six weeks ago.”
Clara’s face changed.
“She what?” she whispered.
Rebecca ignored her.
“Testing found no evidence of cognitive impairment. Her physician is available by video to authenticate the report.”
She placed the document on the evidence screen.
Score after score.
Normal.
Above normal.
Executive function.
Memory.
Judgment.
Language.
Attention.
Judge Moreno looked toward the petition.
Clara’s sworn declaration stated I had refused medical evaluation.
Rebecca highlighted the line.
Then displayed the report date.
Four weeks before Clara signed her declaration.
Moreno looked at Martin.
“Counsel?”
Martin turned toward Clara.
She whispered rapidly.
He looked unhappy.
“My client was not aware this testing occurred.”
Rebecca smiled.
“Interesting.”
She displayed a text message.
From me to David.
Neurologist says everything looks excellent. Full written report next week.
David had replied:
Glad to hear it, Mom.
The courtroom became very still.
Judge Moreno stared at David.
“Mr. Warren?”
David rubbed his forehead.
Martin whispered urgently to him.
Clara looked at David as though she might strike him too.
Rebecca continued.
“Next, the petition alleges Judge Warren became confused about her finances.”
She displayed account statements.
Then a letter from my accountant.
No missed payments.
No unexplained transfers.
No unusual withdrawals.
No delinquent taxes.
No financial confusion.
Instead, the only irregular activity involved repeated attempts by David to access information he no longer had authority to view.
David closed his eyes.
Judge Moreno read the accountant’s affidavit.
“Three attempts?”
Rebecca nodded.
“Over five weeks.”
Martin stood.
“My client previously held a durable power of attorney.”
“Revoked eleven months ago,” Rebecca said.
She displayed the revocation notice.
Signed.
Delivered.
Acknowledged.
David’s electronic receipt appeared beneath it.
Judge Moreno leaned back.
“Mr. Warren is an attorney.”
“Yes.”
“He attempted to use revoked credentials to access his mother’s financial accounts.”
“According to the institution logs.”
Martin looked toward David.
David whispered, “I was checking something.”
Judge Moreno heard him.
“What were you checking?”
Martin stood immediately.
“Your Honor, I need a moment with my client.”
“You may have five.”
The courtroom broke into murmurs.
Clara turned on David.
“You told me it still worked.”
His face went white.
She realized what she had said.
So did everyone else.
Judge Moreno looked over his glasses.
Martin closed his eyes.
Rebecca did not move.
I stared at my hands.
Once, when David was seven, he stole five dollars from my purse.
I found him crying before I even knew the money was gone.
He had bought baseball cards.
He confessed without being asked.
I made him return them.
That night, I explained that mistakes become character when we refuse to correct them.
I wondered when he stopped remembering.
After the break, Martin returned looking ten years older.
“Your Honor, my clients wish to withdraw the emergency request.”
Judge Moreno shook his head.
“No.”
Clara stared.
Martin looked stunned.
“Your Honor?”
“You filed sworn allegations seeking to remove an adult’s financial autonomy.”
He held up the petition.
“You don’t get to treat that like a dinner reservation you cancel when the table is inconvenient.”
No one moved.
“This court will determine whether the petition was filed in good faith.”
Clara’s face hardened.
For the first time, she looked at me with something other than contempt.
Hatred.
Good.
Hatred was more honest.
