Chapter 31 · Maybe Later

"You don't get to say maybe later. Not to this."

Cade's already past my threshold, boot wedged against the door before I can shut it, a folder in his hand thick enough to break a wrist. I smell rain on his jacket and something colder underneath it — courtroom air, printer toner, the smell of a decision already made without me.

"Get out of my hallway," I say. "Maya's asleep."

"Good. Then she won't hear this part."

He drops the folder on my kitchen counter like it weighs nothing, like it isn't a bomb. I don't touch it. I already know what's in it. My lawyer called forty minutes ago, voice tight, saying *he filed, Avery, he actually filed* — like she still couldn't believe Cade Vane would burn the one piece of paper that kept this whole thing quiet.

"You voided the waiver," I say. "The one you signed. The one that said you wouldn't touch custody."

"Abolished," he says, like the word tastes good. "Judge stamped it this afternoon. I'm not the man who signed that anymore."

"You don't get to un-sign five years of nothing."

"Watch me.