I never imagined sitting in a courtroom fighting for custody of my own child. The tension was unbearable as Damian, my ex-husband, sat confidently across the aisle with his lawyer. His polished suit and smug expression contrasted sharply with my anxious, sweaty palms. My son, Zaden, only eight, sat beside me, legs swinging nervously, eyes wide and cautious. For months after our divorce, Damian had followed the custody arrangement. But gradually, Zaden returned from visits anxious, withdrawn, and with unexplained bruises. Teachers noticed his stress, and a child psychologist suggested gentle questioning. It became clear something was wrong. Three months...
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