Helena did not wait for the injunction.

At two-seventeen in the afternoon, her lawyer filed an emergency custody application.

Not for Elsie's primary care — Helena was not Elsie's biological grandmother and had no standing there.

The application was narrower and more calculated than that.

It sought a court order preventing Vittorio from removing Elsie from her registered home address, on the grounds that an unauthorized relocation had occurred without parental consent.

The parental consent in question was Marcus's.

Carver called Vittorio with the news while he was still at Aldermere.

"She's using Marcus," Vittorio said.

"She's using the gap between you and Marcus," Carver said.

"As of this morning, Marcus had not formally consented to Elsie remaining at your address.

Helena's lawyer is arguing that you effectively took a child from her home without the agreement of her father."

"Marcus is here.

He can consent now."

"He can.

And we'll file that immediately.

But Helena knew we'd do that.

This isn't about winning the custody application.

It's about the next step." Carver paused.

"She's also filed a complaint with child services.

Alleging that Rosa's dismissal was retaliatory and that the video Rosa provided was recorded without parental consent and should be excluded from any proceedings."

Vittorio sat down.

"She's trying to remove the video."

"She's trying to create enough procedural noise that the video becomes contested.

If it's contested, it can't be used in the injunction hearing.

And if the injunction hearing is delayed—"

"The money moves."

"Yes."

Vittorio looked across the kitchen.

Marcus was at the table with Elsie.

She was showing him her drawing.

He was looking at it with the careful attention of a man trying to learn something he should have known for years.

"What do we do?" Vittorio asked.

"Rosa needs to make a formal statement today.

Signed, witnessed, submitted before five o'clock.

And we need the clinic records — the ones from the two clinics that refused to give Helena the diagnosis she wanted.

If we can show she went clinic-shopping for a false medical justification, the behavioral disorder claim collapses."

"Can we get those records today?"

"I have someone making calls now.

One clinic has already confirmed they'll cooperate.

The second is checking with their legal team." Carver's voice shifted slightly.

"Vittorio.

There's something else."

"Tell me."

"Helena gave an interview this morning.

To a journalist she has a relationship with.

It's already online.

She's framing this as a family dispute in which an elderly patriarch has removed a child from a stable home in retaliation for a private disagreement." A pause.

"She used the word 'unstable' in reference to you.

And she mentioned your wife's passing.

The grief.

The isolation."

Vittorio was quiet for a moment.

"She's going public," he said.

"She's controlling the story before we can."

"Then we respond."

"I'd advise against a direct media response at this stage—"

"Not through the media," Vittorio said.

"Through the court filing.

Everything Carver submits becomes public record.

The logs.

The video timestamps.

The clinic correspondence.

The holding company.

The nine transfers." He stood.

"Let her give her interview.

Let her use whatever words she wants.

When the filing is public, anyone who read her interview can read our evidence."

Carver was quiet for a moment.

"That's a sound approach."

"File everything.

Today.

Don't wait for the injunction hearing.

Get it all into the record before five o'clock."

"Understood."

"And Carver — the journalist she used.

Find out if Helena gave that journalist anything in writing.

A statement, an email, a briefing document.

If she put her version of events in writing to a third party, that's a statement.

And statements can be used."

Another pause.

Longer this time.

"I'll make that call," Carver said.

Vittorio ended the call and set his phone on the counter.

Rosa came in from the hallway.

She had clearly been close enough to hear.

"She's going to say I falsified the logs," Rosa said.

It wasn't a question.

"She already has."

Rosa nodded slowly.

"Then I'll make my statement now.

Whatever you need."

"Carver will be here within the hour." Vittorio looked at her.

"Rosa.

Are you certain about everything in those logs?

Every date.

Every detail."

Rosa met his eyes without flinching.

"I wrote them the same night each time.

I was afraid of exactly this.

I wanted them to be exact."

"They will be examined very carefully."

"I know," she said.

"I wrote them to survive that."

From the kitchen table, Elsie's voice floated through: "Daddy, is this a horse or a dog?"

Marcus's voice, quieter: "I think it might be both."

Elsie giggled.

Vittorio and Rosa looked at each other across the hallway.

Neither of them said anything.

Neither of them needed to.