“Why on earth would you want to steal the child?” The moment Lena finished speaking, she stared at Adrian as though she still could not believe those words had actually come out of a lawyer’s mouth.
Steal a child?
Wasn’t that kidnapping?
And wasn’t kidnapping obviously illegal?
Adrian sighed when he noticed that several people in the police-station lobby had begun glancing in their direction.
“Why are you getting so worked up?
There are people all around us trying to conduct business.
What if you scare them?” Lena stared at him.
“You’re worried about me scaring them?
Have you considered that you’re the one who just scared me?” She pursed her lips and reluctantly sat back down, although she deliberately shifted a little farther away from Adrian, as though putting some distance between them might protect her from whatever madness he was planning.
Adrian noticed but said nothing.
“Relax.
I already told you that what we’re going to do is completely legal.” Lena took a slow breath.
“Fine.
Let’s put the legality aside for a moment.
What I’m more confused about is why we need to steal the child in the first place.” She looked at him with genuine bewilderment.
The custody dispute over Clara Hayes’s son had already gone to court, and Clara had won decisively.
The court had awarded her custody, so even if Walter and Martha Pike refused to hand the boy over voluntarily, Clara could eventually apply to have the judgment enforced.
No matter how Lena looked at it, deliberately going out of their way to “steal” a child whom Clara had already legally won custody of seemed completely unnecessary.
Adrian suddenly asked, “Do you really think Clara can keep that custody judgment while Martin’s criminal case is still hanging over her?” Lena hesitated.
After a moment, she shook her head.
“No.” “Why not?” Adrian remained completely relaxed in his seat, and before Lena could answer, he continued.
“Because Walter and Martha believe that, as far as Clara is concerned, custody of her son can never compare to whether her father lives or dies.” That was the reality of the situation.
If Martin’s case continued heading toward the worst possible outcome, Clara would almost certainly be willing to sacrifice custody if doing so could persuade Walter and Martha to soften their position, change their testimony, or provide a statement favorable to Martin.
In other words, winning the custody case by itself meant very little.
The real problem had always been Martin’s criminal case.
If Adrian failed there, then everything Lena had just accomplished could still be undone, leaving Clara with nothing but another painful choice.
That was also why Lena had been willing to spend so much time discussing the case with Adrian.
The two matters had already become tightly connected.
While she was thinking, Adrian spoke again.
“But have you ever wondered why Walter and Martha would make that demand in the first place?” Lena looked toward him.
“Ethan was their biological son, someone they raised for thirty years, while Martin is the man they blame for his death.
Logically speaking, shouldn’t their greatest wish be to see Martin punished as severely as possible?” Adrian’s gaze sharpened slightly.
“Yet they’re willing to let go of that demand as long as Clara gives them the child.
Don’t you find that strange?” Lena paused.
He was right.
The boy was their grandson, but Ethan had been their son, the child they had raised for decades.
Martin had been involved in the struggle that ended with Ethan’s abdomen being torn open by the sickle, yet Walter and Martha had shown surprisingly little genuine grief.
Instead, almost immediately after Ethan’s death, they had begun using the criminal case as leverage to regain custody of their grandson.
If Lena put herself in their position, she could not imagine calmly bargaining with the person she believed responsible for killing someone she loved.
So why were Walter and Martha different?
“Because of ignorance,” Adrian said.
Lena’s attention returned to him.
“Pine Hollow is isolated to an extreme degree, and Walter and Martha are among the most traditional people in that village.” Adrian crossed one leg over the other, a trace of coldness appearing in his expression.
“They care deeply about descendants, but what they care about most is the continuation of the family line.” For people trapped in that kind of thinking, having descendants could become almost an obsession.
Adrian was all too familiar with the mentality from the later era he had once lived in.
Some parents would pressure their children relentlessly to marry and have children, especially sons, as though continuing the family name were some sacred obligation that outweighed everything else.
Did they have a throne waiting for an heir, or some enormous family empire that desperately needed a successor?
Usually, neither.
Yet they could still insist that their children marry, reproduce, and carry on the family line even if doing so damaged their careers, finances, or lives.
In that mindset, having children meant fulfilling one’s duty to the family, while refusing could be treated as selfishness, disgrace, or a failure toward one’s parents.
There did not have to be much logic behind it.
If there were, Adrian thought, it would hardly qualify as blind tradition.
“The most extreme people don’t really see children as individuals first,” Adrian continued.
“They see them as vessels for continuing the family line.
They may have genuine affection for them, but that affection becomes mixed together with the belief that the child exists to preserve the family.” There was a hint of indifference in his eyes.
From the moment Ethan died, Adrian had already begun to suspect that Walter and Martha belonged to exactly that kind of family.
Lena gradually understood.
The inconsistencies in the couple’s behavior suddenly began falling into place.
“So even though Ethan was their son, his death doesn’t completely destroy them because, in their minds, the family line is still intact.” She looked at Adrian in realization.
“They still have a grandson.” “Exactly.” Adrian nodded.
“Walter and Martha are already elderly.
Ethan was their only son, and now he’s dead.
Their grandson is the only male descendant they have left.” He paused before continuing.
“If they lose that grandson too, then from their perspective, it’s no different from having their family line cut off.” That remained true even if the boy was alive, healthy, and perfectly safe with Clara.
What mattered to Walter and Martha was that he would no longer be theirs.
Adrian looked at Lena and continued in the same calm, methodical tone.
“So if we reduce everything to the two cases in front of us, our primary concern is Martin’s criminal case, while Walter and Martha’s primary concern is custody.” Both sides wanted different things.
That was exactly why Derek Vaughn had believed he could negotiate a mutually beneficial arrangement with Adrian: Clara would surrender the boy, while Walter and Martha would cooperate regarding Martin.
Each side would get what it wanted.
At least, that was how Derek saw it.
But there was still a problem.
“Now that we understand what the other side actually wants, let’s go back to the original question.” Adrian’s expression sharpened.
“Why do we need to steal the child?” Lena watched him carefully.
“Before I answer that, I want you to think about something else.” He leaned back slightly.
“If both sides have something the other desperately wants, why are Walter and Martha the ones who dare to threaten us?” The question immediately disrupted the conclusion Lena had just reached.
That was right.
Walter and Martha desperately wanted the child.
Without him, as far as they were concerned, their family line would end.
Clara, meanwhile, desperately wanted to save Martin.
If her father spent the rest of his life in prison—or suffered an even harsher outcome—she would carry that pain forever.
Both sides had something to lose.
Both sides needed something from the other.
So why had Derek been able to walk into the police station and openly demand that Clara surrender custody, as though Walter and Martha held all the leverage?
“Because time makes our needs more urgent than theirs,” Adrian said.
Lena frowned.
“What do you mean?” “The two cases operate on different timelines, which means the pressure on each side is completely different.” Adrian folded his arms and leaned comfortably against the back of the bench.
“Martin’s case is imminent.” His tone became more serious.
“Half a month.
At most, around half a month.
The trial is expected to begin on November 9th, and by then his fate could be decided.” Martin was facing a life-changing criminal judgment in little more than two weeks.
If the court imposed the harshest possible sentence and later appeals failed, there would be no taking those consequences back.
Their deadline was brutally close.
“But what about the custody case?” Adrian glanced at Lena.
“Clara already received the judgment, but how long could it actually take before that judgment is enforced if Walter and Martha refuse to cooperate?” He raised an eyebrow.
“You handled the custody case.
Don’t tell me you don’t know.” Lena fell silent.
Of course she knew.
Custody judgments could become extremely troublesome when the losing side refused to comply.
The court would first give Walter and Martha a period in which they were expected to fulfill the judgment voluntarily and hand over the boy.
Suppose that period lasted a month.
What happened if the month passed and they simply refused?
Then Clara would have to apply for compulsory enforcement.
And in practice, cases involving the physical transfer of a child could drag on far longer than anyone wanted.
Enforcement might take a year, or in particularly difficult circumstances, even two or three.
Lena hesitated before answering.
“Two…
maybe three years, depending on how badly they resist.” Adrian shook his head.
“We don’t even need to assume three years.
Forget two as well.” He held up one finger.
“Let’s call it one year.” Then he compared the two situations directly.
“Walter and Martha can still believe they have another year before they truly lose the boy.
Only after that would they feel that their so-called family line had actually been taken from them.” Adrian’s voice lowered slightly.
“But us?” He paused.
“We have fifteen days.” Lena went quiet.
Fifteen days against one year.
Walter and Martha had no reason to panic yet.
Clara did.
From the perspective of negotiation, the difference was enormous.
The more urgently one side needed an agreement, the more easily the other side could dictate terms, raise demands, and force concessions.
Adrian continued, “That is why Walter and Martha can threaten us even though both sides need something from the other.
They know Clara will reach her deadline long before they reach theirs.” Lena fell silent.
Seen from that perspective, the situation almost looked like a dead end.
The difference was built directly into the timelines of the two cases.
Unless Eastland suddenly rewrote its laws and transformed the enforcement process overnight, Clara would always be the one forced to make a decision first.
Walter and Martha could simply wait.
Martin could not.
Adrian noticed Lena staring into space.
“Attorney Quinn?” She blinked.
Adrian raised an eyebrow.
“Why are you zoning out again?” Lena returned to herself and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, looking somewhat discouraged.
“It’s nothing.
I was just thinking that this case is even more difficult than I thought.” Adrian looked surprised.
“Difficult?” Lena turned toward him.
He had just spent several minutes explaining in detail why they were trapped by a difference in timing that neither of them could control, yet somehow he was now looking at her as though she were the one missing something obvious.
Lena stared at him.
Adrian waved a hand.
“Never mind.
We can talk about that later.
Let’s return to the original question.” Lena already knew what he meant.
“Why do you want to steal the child?” “Exactly.” Adrian’s expression became calm again.
“The reason I want to steal the child is because I want to—” He paused for a moment.
“Artificially create urgency.”