Page 78 of Scout

“Why do you believe Juniper should be placed in your care?”

I breathe in slow. “Because I love her. Because she’s my sister. Because I’ve already been taking care of her—before the accident, after, and every day since. I’ve built my entire life around her now. She’s my world.”

The judge nods once, glancing at the paperwork in front of her.

“You’ve been her primary caregiver since the accident, correct?” the Judge asks.

“Yes, ma’am.”

The judge nods, then flips through some papers. “Thank you, Mr. Hastings. You may return to your seat.”

I step down and move back beside Kaelin, my legs feeling heavier than they should.

The judge shifts her attention to Juniper. “Juniper, I’m going to ask you a few questions now. But first, I need to swear you in. Can you stand, please?”

She gets to her feet, a little shaky but brave.

The bailiff steps forward. “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

Juniper glances at me, then nods. “I do.”

The judge smiles gently. “Thank you. You can sit back down.”

She adjusts her glasses and asks, “Juniper, can you tell the court who you’d like to live with?”

She speaks, voice clear. “Scout. He’s already been taking care of me. Even when I lived with my mom. He’s the one who made sure I had everything I needed. He’s my person.”

“Thank you.” She flashes a faint smile, then looks between me and Juniper. Her voice is calm but carries weight. “This court finds sufficient evidence to grant legal guardianship of Juniper Rose Hastings to her half-brother, Scout Nathaniel Hastings. Effective immediately.”

There’s a pause, just long enough for the words to land in my chest like a hammer and a lifeline all at once.

Kaelin leans over and shakes my hand. “Congratulations. She’s officially under your guardianship.”

I nod, but I barely hear him. I’m too focused on Juniper beaming, her hand in mine.

“Just so you’re aware,” Kaelin adds, “This is legal guardianship, not adoption. You’ll need a separate hearing for that. It wouldn’t change anything practically, but her birth certificate would list you as her father.”

Something to chew on later.

We walk toward the back of the courtroom, toward the exit—and toward them.

Kendrix and Xavier stand as we approach, both of them wearing tight, unreadable expressions.

I stop in front of them, Juniper right at my side.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, not cold… just tired.

Xavier shrugs. “You told us the date.”

“And you didn’t tell us not to come,” Kendrix adds, a little softer.

Juniper crosses her arms and smirks, clearly pleased. “Don’t be rude. I’m glad they came.”

I look between the three of them, my heart pounding in this strange, quiet way—as if it’s trying to relearn what belonging feels like.

We step out into the hallway, and Juniper leans into my side, her hand tucked around my waist, holding me steady. Xavier and Kendrix follow close behind. Not hovering, not pushing—just there. And somehow, their presence feels heavier than the judge’s voice had a few minutes ago.

I stop near the wall across from a row of empty chairs and turn to face them.