Triplets Stand in Court to Defend Their Mom – Judge Realizes He’s the Father Who Abandoned Them—EPISODE 3

• Her chest heaved. She bowled the letter up, tossed it into the trash, then struck a match and set it a flame right there in the metal waste bin. The paper curled, blackened, and vanished in smoke. “That name doesn’t matter,” she whispered harshly. “It never mattered. Don’t you ever go through my things again.
• ” Malik backed away, hurt, but more curious than ever. The fire in his mother’s eyes told him there was more to their story than she had ever admitted. That evening, as the smell of burnt paper still lingered, another knock came at the door. This time, it wasn’t the landlord. A tall woman in a gray suit stood with a clipboard pressed to her chest. “Mrs.
• Johnson?” she asked, her tone clipped, but not unkind. “I’m Ms. Carter from child services. I received a report about your living conditions. May I come in?” Tasha’s stomach dropped. She wanted to slam the door shut, but Malik, Maya, and Micah were already at her side, peeking around her legs. Inside, Ms.
• Carter walked through the apartment, taking notes, peeling paint, empty fridge, stacks of unpaid bills. She watched the children, too. How quickly they defended their mother, how tightly they clung to her hand. “Your children are very loyal,” Ms. Carter said quietly, almost to herself. “They’re all I have,” Tasha replied, her voice trembling. Ms. Carter made a final note, then closed her folder. “We’ll review the situation in court.
• ” “Please be prepared.” She left without another word. The moment the door shut, Maya looked up at her mother, her small face fierce. “They’re not taking us, mama. I don’t care what they say.” Micah nodded, clutching her apron. We’ll fight them. But Malik’s eyes were still troubled. His thoughts kept circling back to the letter.
• The name Anthony burned in his mind like the flames that devoured it. Whoever he was, Malik felt sure that man was the key to everything. That night, as Tasha lay awake staring at the ceiling, she realized her children were right about one thing. A storm was coming. And soon the past she had tried so hard to bury would rise again.
• This time in a courtroom where the truth could no longer be hidden. The sun was barely up when the knock came. It wasn’t the landlord this time. The sound was firm official and it made the walls shake. Tasha froze, spatula in hand, halfway through flipping pancakes. Her children stopped midbite, eyes darting to the door. Who is it? Malik whispered. Tasha didn’t answer.
• Her heart already knew. She set the spatula down with trembling fingers, walked to the door, and opened it. A uniformed officer stood on the porch, his face blank. Beside him was a woman holding a sealed envelope stamped with the county seal. “Mrs. Tasha Johnson?” the woman asked. “Yes,” Tasha croked.
• “This is a summon to appear in family court. The state has opened a case concerning the custody of your three children. She handed over the envelope. Failure to appear will result in immediate intervention by child protective services. Tasha’s breath caught. Custody. You’re saying you’ll have the opportunity to present your case in court? The woman interrupted briskly.
• Details are inside. Good day, ma’am. The officer tipped his hat. Together they walked away, leaving Tasha in the doorway, envelope heavy in her hands. The triplets rushed forward. “Mama, what is it?” Maya asked. Tasha sank onto the couch, ripping the envelope open. Her eyes raced across the words, and her lips trembled.
• “They want to take you away from me,” she whispered. “We have to go to court next week.” “No!” Malik shouted, his small fists pounding the cushion. They can’t do that. Micah slid closer, tugging her sleeve. Mama, we’ll tell them. We’ll make them listen. Tasha shook her head violently. No, baby. Court is not for children. I’ll handle it.
• But the triplets exchanged a look, their little faces fierce with determination. They weren’t about to be silent. That night, Tasha sat at the kitchen table, head in her hands, the papers spread out before her. “Malik lingered in the doorway watching.” “Mama,” he said quietly. “You’re scared, huh?” she lifted her head, trying to smile. “No, baby, I’m just tired.

EPISODE 4

•  But Malik wasn’t fooled. “We’ll help you. You don’t have to fight alone.” Before she could answer, Ma stormed into the room, dragging Micah behind her. “We already started writing what we’re going to say in court.” “What?” Tasha stood up, alarmed. Ma slapped a crumpled piece of notebook paper onto the table.
• In big, messy letters, it read, “Our mama is the best mama in the world.” Tasha’s chest tightened, tears welled in her eyes. “You children don’t understand. Court isn’t a school play. They won’t just clap when you talk. Then we’ll make them listen. Ma shot back, stubborn as ever. Micah tugged on her sleeve, his voice soft but steady. If we don’t talk, they’ll only hear lies about you. We got to tell the truth.
• Tasha’s tears spilled over. She pulled her children into her arms, hugging them so tight they could hardly breathe. Oh my babies, you’re too brave for this world. Over the next days, the atmosphere in the apartment shifted. Where there had been despair, now there was a kind of determination. The triplets turned the kitchen table into their courtroom practice.
• Malik stood on a chair, pounding a plastic spoon like a gavvel. “Objection!” he shouted. “My mama works hard every day to take care of us.” Maya rolled her eyes. You can’t say objection all the time. You got to tell a story. She stood and spoke to an imaginary judge.
• Your honor, every night mama sings us to sleep, even when she’s tired. She never lets us feel unloved. Micah shuffled forward shily, clutching his school certificates. And I got these cuz mama stayed up helping me. That’s proof she’s a good mom. Tasha watched from the doorway, torn between pride and fear. Her children were rehearsing for battle they shouldn’t have to fight.
• 3 days before the court date, the landlord appeared again, pounding on the door. This time he had two men with him. Clocks ticking, Miss Johnson. Given sneered. 10 days are almost up. You don’t got the money. You and these kids will be out on the street. Tasha stepped outside, pulling the door shut behind her. so the kids wouldn’t hear. Please, Mr. Given, I just need a little more time.
• After court, I’ll figure something out. The landlord laughed. A cruel sound. Court? You think they going to side with you? Everybody knows you can’t provide. Those kids will end up where they belong, in the system. The words hit like knives. Rage flared in Tasha, but before she could respond, the door burst open behind her.
• Malik stood there, fists clenched. “You’re a liar,” he shouted. “Our mama’s better than you’ll ever be.” Maya and Micah joined him, standing shoulderto-shoulder. “We’re not scared of you.” Ma spat, the landlord’s face darkened. “Little brats, you’ll regret that.” He turned and stomped down the stairs with his men.
• Tasha pulled her children back inside, her hands shaking. Don’t you ever open that door again when I’m talking to him. Do you hear me? But mama, Malik protested. He was lying on you. We can’t just stay quiet. Tasha hugged him tight, her tears soaking his hair. I know, baby, but sometimes staying safe means staying silent. The children exchanged a glance.