Updated Oct 23, 2025 • ~10 min read
SEB’S POV
The adoption hearing was scheduled for a Friday morning.
Four months after our vow renewal. Five months since Celeste came home. Six months of waiting to make official what had always been true in my heart—that she was my daughter.
“Nervous?” Lina asked as we got ready.
“Terrified. You?”
“Same.” She adjusted Celeste in her carrier. Three months old now, chunky and healthy and perfect. “But it’s just a formality, right? Jasper signed everything. We have all the paperwork.”
“Should be straightforward.”
Famous last words.
At the courthouse, Natalia met us with a grim expression.
“We have a problem,” she said.
My stomach dropped. “What kind of problem?”
“Someone filed an objection to the adoption. Anonymous. Claims there’s evidence the marriage is still fraudulent and you’re adopting Celeste to strengthen an immigration case.”
“Who would—” Lina started, then stopped. “The same person who leaked everything before.”
“Likely. And they’ve submitted documents to the court. I haven’t seen them yet, but the judge has.”
“What kind of documents?” I asked.
“I don’t know. But Seb, Lina—whatever’s in there, we need to be prepared.”
Judge Veronica Ashford—the same judge who’d overseen our custody mediation—entered the courtroom. She looked less friendly than last time.
“This was supposed to be a routine adoption hearing,” she began. “But I’ve received concerning information. Mr. Santoro, Mrs. Santoro, I need you to be completely honest with me. Was your marriage ever fraudulent?”
Lina and I exchanged glances.
“At the beginning,” I admitted. “But—”
“Yes or no, Mr. Santoro.”
“Yes. Initially, it was an arrangement for immigration purposes.”
Judge Ashford pulled out a file. “I have emails here. Between you and Mrs. Santoro. Dated three months ago. After your green card was initially approved. After your daughter was born.”
Three months ago. Right around when the blog article came out.
“What do the emails say?” Natalia asked.
“I’ll read one.” The judge put on her reading glasses. “‘Lina, we need to be careful. The article exposed us but we can still salvage this. If we adopt Celeste, it strengthens the new green card application. Shows we’re a stable family. Just a few more months of this and we’re in the clear.'”
The blood drained from my face.
“I never wrote that,” I said.
“It’s from your email address. Sent to Mrs. Santoro’s email.”
“Then it’s fake. Someone hacked my account or—”
“There are multiple emails, Mr. Santoro. Over several weeks. All discussing strategies to convince immigration and the courts that your marriage is real. Including this one—” She pulled out another page. “‘Once the adoption goes through and my citizenship is secured, we can reassess whether this marriage is still necessary.'”
“I didn’t write that! Lina, you know I didn’t write that.”
Lina was pale. “Your Honor, I never received those emails. I’ve never seen them before.”
“They were deleted from Mrs. Santoro’s inbox. But the sender’s copy remained.” Judge Ashford looked at us over her glasses. “Mr. Santoro, are you still claiming you didn’t write these?”
“I’m not claiming. I’m stating a fact. Someone is framing me.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. The same person who’s been trying to destroy us from the beginning.”
“That’s very convenient.”
“It’s the truth!”
“Your Honor,” Natalia interjected, “may I see the emails?”
Judge Ashford handed them over. Natalia read quickly, her expression darkening.
“These are fabricated,” she said. “The metadata is wrong. The IP addresses don’t match Mr. Santoro’s home or work locations. Someone spoofed his email address.”
“Can you prove that?”
“Given time, yes. But Your Honor, you know this couple. You oversaw their custody mediation. You’ve seen them together. Do these emails sound like them?”
“That’s not the point, Mrs. Kingsley. The point is whether this adoption is legitimate or another attempt at immigration fraud.”
“The adoption is legitimate!” I stood up, unable to sit still anymore. “My daughter is in that carrier right now. I’ve been her father since the day she was born. Before, even. I held Lina’s hair when she had morning sickness. I went to every ultrasound. I painted the nursery. I was there when Celeste was born two months early and we didn’t know if she’d survive. I’ve been up every night since she came home. Changed every diaper. Given every bottle. That’s my daughter. Those emails are lies.”
“Sit down, Mr. Santoro.”
“No. I won’t sit down while someone tries to take my daughter from me based on forged emails.” My voice cracked. “Whoever is doing this—whoever has been trying to destroy us—they don’t get to win. Not this time. Not when my daughter’s future is at stake.”
“Mr. Santoro, one more outburst and I’ll hold you in contempt.”
Natalia pulled me back into my seat. “Your Honor, I request a continuance. Give us time to examine these emails, prove they’re fake, and identify who’s behind this.”
Judge Ashford considered. “Two weeks. But Mr. Santoro, Mrs. Santoro—if I find out you were involved in creating fake emails to cover up real ones, I will not only deny this adoption but refer you for prosecution. Am I clear?”
“Crystal,” I said through clenched teeth.
LINA’S POV
In the car, Seb was silent.
Dangerously, terrifyingly silent.
“Seb—”
“Someone is trying to destroy us. Still. After everything.” His hands gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles went white. “They forged emails. Emails designed to make me look like I’m still using you for immigration purposes.”
“Natalia will prove they’re fake.”
“Will she? Or will the judge decide it’s easier to believe I’m a criminal than to admit someone’s targeting us?”
“The judge knows us. She’s seen us together.”
“She’s seen us perform together. That’s what she thinks. That we’re good actors.” He pulled over suddenly, unable to drive. “What if we lose the adoption? What if they decide I can’t be trusted with Celeste?”
“Then we appeal. We fight.”
“For how long? How many times do we have to prove ourselves before someone believes us?”
Celeste started crying in the backseat. I unbuckled, climbed back to comfort her.
“We fight for as long as it takes,” I said, rocking her. “Because she’s ours. And no fake emails or anonymous cowards get to change that.”
Seb turned around in his seat, watching me with our daughter.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “For bringing this into your life. If I hadn’t asked you to marry me that day—”
“Then I’d be broke and miserable and alone. Instead I have you. And her. And a life I couldn’t have imagined.” I reached forward, touched his face. “This isn’t your fault. Someone is targeting us. We need to find out who.”
“How? They’ve been anonymous this whole time.”
“Then we make them show themselves. We set a trap.”
SEB’S POV
Back at the apartment, we called an emergency meeting.
Natalia. Declan via video. Stella. Even Jasper, who showed up looking grim.
“Someone’s been systematically trying to destroy you,” Natalia said, spreading papers across our dining table. “The anonymous tip to immigration. The blog article. Now these emails. It’s coordinated. Deliberate.”
“But who?” Lina asked. “Who would hate us this much?”
“Let’s think about who has access to the information,” Declan said from the laptop. “The blog article had photos. Inside knowledge. Details about the custody case.”
“Someone close to us,” I realized. “Or someone with access to court records.”
“Court records are sealed,” Natalia said. “Only lawyers, judges, and parties involved would have access.”
We all looked at each other.
“Damian Thornton,” Jasper said quietly. “My old lawyer. He had access to everything. And when I dropped the custody case, he was furious. Lost a big payday.”
“Would he really forge evidence out of revenge?” Stella asked.
“He’s done worse for less,” Jasper said. “When I told him I wanted to drop the case, he tried to talk me out of it. Said we could still win. That you two were criminals and we had a duty to expose you.”
“Can you prove he’s behind this?” I asked Natalia.
“Not yet. But if he is, he’s left a trail. Forging emails requires technical knowledge. Accessing sealed court records illegally. These are crimes. If we can tie them to him…” She smiled grimly. “He’ll lose his license. Possibly face charges.”
“How do we prove it?” Lina asked.
“We draw him out. Make him think he’s winning, get him to slip up.”
“How?”
Natalia thought for a moment. “We leak false information. Tell specific people different versions of a story. See which version gets back to the press. Whoever’s version appears is our leak.”
“That’s a terrible plan,” Declan said.
“You have a better one?”
Silence.
“Didn’t think so. Okay, here’s what we do…”
LINA’S POV
The trap was simple but risky.
We told three different people three different stories about our “plans.”
To Damian Thornton, through Jasper: We were planning to leave the country before the adoption hearing, essentially fleeing.
To a gossipy coworker of Seb’s: We were getting divorced and fighting over custody.
To a casual acquaintance from parenting class: We were moving to Canada to avoid legal consequences.
“If any of these appear in the press or get back to the court, we know who leaked it,” Natalia explained. “And we can trace it back to the source.”
“What if nothing happens?” I asked.
“Then we wait. Keep digging. But my bet? Whoever’s doing this can’t resist one more hit piece.”
Two days later, the blog posted again.
“Immigration Fraud Couple Plans to Flee Country”
The article detailed our “plans” to leave before the adoption hearing. Word for word what Jasper had told Damian Thornton.
“It’s him,” Natalia said, reading the article. “It has to be.”
“Can you prove it?” Seb asked.
“Now? Yes. I can subpoena the blogger, find out who their source is, trace the emails back to Thornton’s IP address.” She was already making calls. “This is enough for a criminal investigation. And enough to clear your names.”
That night, Seb and I sat on the couch, exhausted.
“It’s almost over,” I said.
“Is it? Or is this just another chapter in the never-ending saga of Sebastian and Lina versus the world?”
“Probably that one. But at least we’re together.”
“For now. The green card application is still pending. The adoption’s on hold. We’re not out of the woods yet.”
“When have we ever been out of the woods?”
He laughed despite everything. “Fair point.”
Celeste woke up crying. We both stood to get her, bumped into each other, laughed.
“I’ll get her,” Seb said.
I watched him lift our daughter from her bassinet, settle her against his chest, start rocking.
“You’re her dad,” I said softly. “No matter what any court says. You’re her dad.”
“I know. But I want it legal. I want her to have my name. My protection. All of it.”
“Two more weeks. Natalia will prove those emails were fake. We’ll expose Thornton. And then the judge will approve the adoption.”
“You sound very confident.”
“One of us has to be.”
He crossed to me, Celeste still in his arms. “What did I do to deserve you?”
“Proposed a sketchy business arrangement in a coffee shop.”
“Best decision I ever made.”
“Second best,” I corrected, touching Celeste’s tiny hand. “She’s the best.”
“She’s the best,” he agreed. “But you’re a close second.”
“I’ll take it.”
We stood there, the three of us, in our living room at midnight, and despite everything—the legal battles, the anonymous attacker, the uncertain future—I felt something like peace.
We were a family.
Whatever happened next, we’d face it together.
Like always.
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