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CHAPTER 35

EMERSON

"I keep thinking about running." I trace the pattern on Zara's couch with my finger, the conservatorship letter weighing heavily in my bag. "It would be easier for everyone."

"Everyone, you mean Gunnar?" Zara's voice is gentle yet firm.

"If I'm not here, my parents have no case. They'd leave him alone." I twist my silicone wedding band. "His career wouldn't be impacted by this legal circus."

"Is that what Gunnar wants?"

I gaze out of her office window at the Pittsburgh skyline. "He says no, but he doesn't fully understand what my parents are capable of."

"Based on what you've shared, your parents are employing legal measures to try to regain control over you." Zara puts her notepad down. "Running away would actually reinforce their claim that you're unstable and making irrational choices."

The truth of her words settles like a stone in my stomach. "So they win either way."

"Not necessarily," Zara leans forward. "Emerson, I want you to know that I'd be more than willing to testify regarding your mental stability and capacity. In my professional assessment, you're completely capable of making your own decisions."

I blink back unexpected tears. "You would do that?"

"Of course. You're in therapy not because you're unstable, but because you're working through the effects of controlling relationships and discovering your autonomy. That demonstrates remarkable self-awareness and mental clarity."

"My father will bring in psychiatrists who've never even met me."

"And they'll have far less credibility than someone who's been working with you regularly." She smiles reassuringly. "The courts typically favor the testimony of treating professionals over that of hired experts."

A tendril of hope uncurls within me. "Tim—Gunnar's uncle—says the same thing."

"Your support network is strong, Emerson, and that's another point in your favor. Individuals who need conservatorships typically lack support systems. You have Gunnar, his family, your colleagues at Scale Up, and even your students."

I hadn't thought of it that way. "So, you don't think they'll succeed?"

"Cases like this require substantial evidence of incapacity. Based on everything you've shared, you're functioning exceptionally well." She glances at her watch. "We're almost out of time, but I want you to take something with you today."

She writes on her prescription pad and hands it to me. I read the words: Emerson Saltzer demonstrates sound judgment and complete capacity to make her own decisions.

"My official assessment. Keep it with you until we need it formally."

I fold the paper carefully. "Thank you."

"One more thing." Zara smiles. "Next time you feel the urge to run, remember that standing your ground is the strongest move you can make right now."

As I step into the elevator, my phone buzzes with a text from Gunnar:

Practice done. Want to get lunch before meeting with Tim?

I answer immediately:

Yes please. I have news from Zara.

His response warms me:

Proud of you, Salty. See you at Mel's in 20. Love you.

I press the phone to my chest, drawing strength from his words. Running isn't the answer. Fighting is.

I arrive at our favorite diner before Gunnar and claim our usual booth in the back corner. The owner, Mel, slides a chocolate shake in front of me without asking.

"You look like you could use this today, honey."

I smile gratefully. "That obvious, huh?"

"Nothing, a little sugar can't help." She pats my hand. "Your man just pulled up."

Gunnar enters shortly after, his hair still damp from his post-practice shower. Despite everything, my heart still flutters at the sight of him. He slides into the seat opposite me, immediately reaching for my hands across the table.

"How was Zara?"

"Surprisingly helpful." I pull out the note she gave me. "She's willing to testify about my mental competence."

He reads it, his face brightening. "This is huge, Salty."

"She says it'll carry more weight than any ‘expert’ my father brings in."

"Tim will be thrilled. He's assembling our entire strategy right now." Gunnar squeezes my hands. "We meet with the full legal team at three. Mom asked me to reassure you that she’s worked in family law her whole career and knows influential people high up."

Mel brings Gunnar's usual burger and sets my fries down without interrupting our conversation. I take a small bite, surprised to feel my appetite returning.

"What did Brian say about the publicity angle?" I ask.

"He's drafting a statement denouncing your parents' actions as retaliatory for the symphony investigation." Gunnar dips a fry in ketchup. "Says we'll have public opinion solidly on our side."

"But what about your endorsements? The hospital?"

"Already taken care of. I spoke directly with their board members. It turns out that several of them have had experiences with controlling family members." He smiles grimly. "Rich people problems, I suppose."

I stir my shake, processing all this. "I can't believe how quickly everyone has mobilized."

"Family takes care of family." He says it so matter-of-factly, as if it's the most natural thing in the world. For him, it is.

"I'm still scared," I admit quietly.

"I'd be worried if you weren't. But Emerson—" he catches my gaze, his blue eyes intense, "—we are going to win this. Your parents have money and connections, but we have the truth and some pretty decent connections of our own."

I draw a deep breath. "Zara says running would only prove their point."

"Smart woman, that Zara." He winks, lightening the moment. "Almost as smart as my wife."

I manage a small smile. "What should I expect at this meeting?"

"Tim is bringing his two best associates, along with a family law specialist who deals with conservatorship cases." Gunnar checks his watch. "We should head out soon. Tim wants us to review some documents before the full team arrives."

I hesitate, as something that's been bothering me finally surfaces. "Gunnar, I noticed you didn't start the last two games. Is that because of all this?" I gesture vaguely, encompassing the legal mess we're in. "The rotation schedule changed."

He sighs, running a hand through his damp hair. "Coach thought it might be better if I focused on this for a bit."

"I knew it." My chest tightens with guilt. "You're losing ice time because of me and my family drama."

"Hey, look at me." He cups my face gently. "I'm okay riding the bench for a few games while we get this sorted. Grentley's playing well, and the team is winning."

"But your career?—"

"It will be fine," he interrupts firmly. "We've got years ahead of us, Salty. A few games now don't define anything. What matters is ensuring that your parents can't control your life anymore."

"You're sure?"

His smile is genuine. "Positive. Besides, Coach says the rest might be good for me. Keep me hungry." He winks. "And trust me, I'm very hungry to get back out there and show everyone what I can do." As we walk to his car, I feel something shifting inside me—fear is giving way to determination. My parents thought this legal threat would break me and send me crawling back to them. Instead, it's only strengthening my resolve.