Garrett hesitated because speaking the answer aloud would make it irreversible. Behind him, the bikers remained motionless and silent, offering no defense and no visible encouragement.
Judge Hodge’s voice remained steady. “Mr. Sloan, clarify your statement.”
Garrett steadied his trembling hands against the table and said, “I am not asking for custody.”
A wave of astonishment moved across the room.
The prosecutor frowned and asked, “Then what is the purpose of this proceeding?”
Garrett exhaled slowly and said, “I am here to sign over my parental rights.”
Rebecca’s eyes widened, and her attorney responded quickly, “Your Honor, this could be a calculated performance intended to sway future proceedings.”
The word performance hung heavily in the air because the scene certainly appeared dramatic, with a restrained father at the defense table, a line of bikers behind him, and a young girl in yellow watching from the front row.
Travis remained still against the wall, arms relaxed at his sides, making no eye contact with Rebecca or her counsel.
Garrett lifted his gaze to the bench and said, “I have been sober for eleven months.”