Benedict reached into his briefcase and drew out a large printed photograph, holding it up for the room. It showed Toby walking out of his elementary school three days earlier, wearing the same navy shirt he had on now.

“This illustrates our concern,” Benedict said, tapping the picture. “The child appears in public in worn clothing. His mother works irregular late shifts, lives in a cramped apartment, and depends heavily on an elderly relative for childcare.”

Toby stopped swinging his feet and went still.

Benedict stepped closer to the bench and pointed at the faint stain near the hem. “She can’t reliably provide presentable clothing for her son.”

A few people in the gallery shifted and glanced over at us. Toby lowered his head and stared at his lap. That was the moment I understood: Russell wasn’t asking for a few more weekends.

He wanted the court to believe that struggling with money meant loving my child less.