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We shake hands. His eyes flick to Ani, then Finn. He nods to them both and gestures to the seats. “Have a seat. I’ve cleared the afternoon.”

Ani lowers herself into the chair slowly. Finn slides in beside her and I’m on her other side.

Levin folds his hands on the table. “You want to tell me what we’re up against here?”

Ani hesitates but then she starts talking.

Her voice isn’t loud, but it’s clear. She starts from the beginning, explaining her upbringing and the expectations. She tells him about running the night before her wedding. She tells him about the fire and how we took her in. She tells him about the letter. The visit from CPS. The threats. She explains the conservatorship filing, the attempt to paint her as mentally unwell. She doesn’t look up once, not even when her voice catches halfway through.

Levin doesn’t interrupt.

He just listens, nodding now and then, tapping one finger slowly against the manila folder in front of him.

When she finishes, Levin opens the folder and skims a few pages, then looks up.

“We’ve got ground to stand on,” he says. “Let’s move.”

Ani exhales with force. I press a hand on her arm while Finn places one on her thigh. Neither seems to settle her, and that’s concerning. We’ve only known her a short time, but she’s always leaned on us for comfort and stability—Finn especially.

We step out of the building into the bright light of midday and every cell in my body tells me something is wrong. Ani’s steps falter, and I know she feels it too.

Her parents are standing there—right outside the building.

Her mother wears cream and pearls, her hair sculpted into a complicated updo. Her smile is soft and trembling at the corners. Her father stands behind her, motionless. His eyes land on Ani and don’t move. The man doesn’t even blink.

Ani freezes.

Finn shifts beside me. One more second and he’s going to lunge.

I shoot him a look. Stand down.

He clenches his fists but doesn’t move. For now.

Her mother steps forward. “Anoush,” she says, her voice sickly sweet, “my love.”

Ani doesn’t respond. She stands like a stone.

“I know you’re confused,” her mother continues, hand fluttering like she might reach for her. “I know this hasn’t been easy. But you can come home now. We can fix this.”

Ani just stares at her, still not moving.

“You’re not thinking clearly,” her mother says. “You’ve been under too much strain. All these people around you, filling your head with nonsense. It’s not your fault.”

“Don’t do that,” Ani says, her voice barely audible.

Her mother steps closer. “We love you, sweetheart.”

Ani crosses her arms over her chest.

Then her father speaks.

“You’re sick, Anoush,” he says. “And these men you’re with…they’re using you. You don’t see it now, but you will eventually.”

Finn bristles beside me.

I know that tone. It’s the same one commanding officers use before they strip you of your weapon and send you for a psych evaluation.

I speak before Finn gets a chance to. “What do you want?”