06/13/2025
I'm Ryan. I turned 18 the day after we buried our parents. My little brother Max was 6. He didn't understand. Just kept asking, "When's Mommy coming back?"
I promised I'd never let anyone take him.
A week later, Aunt Diane and Uncle Gary showed up. "You're still a kid," she said, all fake concern. "Max needs stability. A real home."
They never cared before. Now they wanted custody?
I dropped out of college, worked two jobs, and applied for guardianship. Then Diane told Child Services I yelled at Max. That I left him alone.
One night, after I picked him up, Max whispered, "She said if I don't call her Mommy, I won't get dessert."
Later, I overheard Diane on the phone: "Once we get custody, the state will release the trust fund."
Gary laughed. "We can send Max to boarding school. He's a handful."
Diane laughed. "I just want a new car and maybe that Hawaii vacation."
At the final custody hearing, Diane wore a pearl necklace and brought homemade cookies for the judge, thinking she had won.
BUT I HAD AN ACE UP MY SLEEVE. ⬇️
