“Mr. Williams, you claim four years ago you had a one night stand with the defendant Miss Davis and today you’re here to prove you didn’t father her three-year-old son, Charles. Is that correct?”

“That’s correct, Your Honor.”

“Additionally, you are suing Miss Davis for conversion. You claim she sold your 1994 Pontiac Firebird valued at $2,500 without your permission.”

“That’s correct.”

“Miss Davis, you are certain Mr. Williams is the father and claim he’s denying your son to get out of his responsibility?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

All right, Mr. Williams, so why did you wait so long to get a DNA test?

“I just found out about three months ago.”

This child is three years old?

“Yes.”

And you just found out three months ago that you potentially could be this child’s father?

“Yes, Your Honor. Explain.”

“I met Miss Davis about four years ago at a party. Party atmosphere and everything. We partied. Ended up spending the night together that night.”

So it’s in your mind a one night stand?

“Yes, Your Honor.”

Okay. Did you use protection?

“Um, because I was inebriated… and that was four years ago, I’m not positive that I did use protection.”

All right. Miss Davis, I need you to take me back to this night and get to how this man is just finding out about this baby three months ago.

“Okay. At the time I was in a relationship, so I was for certain that my boyfriend wasn’t my child’s father.”

How did you get to the point where you got a boyfriend but you had this party and a one night stand with Mr. Williams?

“We was broken up but we wasn’t… we was split for a couple of days.”

Okay.

“And I was just mingling. And that’s when I met Mr. Williams.”

“It’s always on the break,” someone in the audience shouted. “Always the break.”

The room laughed, but the tension didn’t break. It just shifted.

How are you so certain he is the father?

“Um, for one, um…”

“She’s not,” Williams interrupted.

The judge held up a hand. “Can I submit this?”

“Yes, you may.”

She examined the document. “I noticed that he’s a junior, but his birth father didn’t sign the birth certificate. So that right there gave me a lot of suspicion.”

“Because the man was not for certain that he was my son’s father.”

Okay. So he refused because he had doubts?

“Yes.”

As to whether or not he was truly the biological father?

“Yes.”

But you named him after him anyway?

“Yes. That’s why I’m so suspicious about it.”

Williams shifted in his seat. “I can only do so much as far as stepping up as an alleged baby daddy. What else can I do if I’m already going to work, I’m already spending time with him? I’ve already relocated states because of the situation.”

The judge pulled out her calendar. “All right. Let me get my calendar so I can understand this. So when was Charles Jr. born?”

“June 1st, 2013.”

Okay. Now, when did you say you had intimate relations with the plaintiff? When was that one night stand with Mr. Williams?

“Around the end of September going into October.”

The end of September going into October. All right. Now… anybody else?

“Um, yes, there was another man.”

The audience gasped.

“There was?”

“Yes.”

So there was another man that you had sex with as well? During the window of conception?

“Yes.”

When was that?

“The beginning of September.”

“So this calendar is full,” the judge said dryly.

Before I go further… is there anyone else besides the other man?

“No, Your Honor.”

Williams stood up. “Your Honor, it would have to be at least three or four other people that she was intimate with during that time. During that window of conception.”

Why do you say that?

“She’s accusing me of being the father of her son. He’s named after another man. He doesn’t respond to that name. In the few months that I’ve known about him, I’ve spent time with him, taking him out to play. He doesn’t respond to the name that he’s been given. He responds to three different other names. She calls me another name.”

What?

“That’s what I mean. There’s so much confusion in there. It has to be more than just, okay, that two, that was three people.”

So you named your son after the boyfriend you were on break from?

“Yes.”

“I’m not trying to pin nothing on Mr. Williams,” Davis said quickly. “However, I just want to figure out the situation.”

You need to know for your child.

“Yes, Your Honor. Yes, you do. And he deserves to know.”

“The thing about it is, Your Honor,” Williams said, “when I found out, I was living in Minnesota. I was living in a completely different state. We’re from the mid-west. So whenever I found out, I told her, okay, don’t stress too much about it. I don’t live in that state anymore. But this is serious enough for me to come there and to get things situated.”

Okay.

“This woman is accusing me of being her child’s father. I’m going back and forth to work since I’ve known, and I’m taking her to doctor’s appointments. I’m taking her to meet her lawyers. I’m taking her to get food for the house. I’m taking him around my family within three months of knowing this. And then, while I’m at work…”

He paused, his jaw tightening.

“My car breaks down in front of her house. I asked for permission to park my car in the back until I can get the part at the end of the week when I get my paycheck. So I got my paycheck, and I’m ready to go get my car ’cause I’ve got other business to take care of. And my car’s gone. Nobody knows where it’s at. Nobody knows what happened to it.”

He held up a stack of papers. “Could I present this?”

Yes, you may.

“What is it you’re presenting, sir?”

“I’m presenting the Blue Book value of my car and also my insurance. And the title showing that my car was insured. The car belonged to me and only me.”

So what happened to the car, Miss Davis?

“I don’t know anything about a car. I don’t know.”

So you don’t remember the car being in front of your house?

“No. I don’t.”

She says she doesn’t remember a car in front of her house.

“I don’t.”

He doesn’t have no kind of proof that I didn’t…

Did you ever ride in the car?

“Yeah. Mm-hmm.”

So you knew which car it was. And then the next thing you know, it was gone?

He’s saying you sold it. You’re saying you did not sell it.

“Mm-hmm.”

Someone’s saying it was stolen, but no one reported it stolen.

“So I’m saying this don’t make sense,” Williams said. “If you’re accusing me of being your child’s father, why would you show no sympathy? No remorse. Not even any concern. That my only means of transportation where I can do something for my alleged son…”

The audience applauded.

“I did that, Your Honor,” Davis said. “But why would Mr. Williams feel like he can just come into my son’s life and then just disappear when he want to? If you felt like this wasn’t your son, I feel you shouldn’t have even came around until we got everything established.”

Where did he disappear when he wanted to?

“When Miss Bryant had to take me back and forth to work because she sold my car. And a whole girlfriend that don’t have anything to do with…”

Okay. All right. So now we’re getting down to the nitty gritty. So you got annoyed because when you called him and said you potentially have a child…

“Yes.”

He showed up to try to be in the child’s life?

“Yes, he did.”

But he showed up with company?

“Right. But he was staying in my mother’s house every day with me and my son. So if you feel like you’re not the father of the child, why are you around? Why not? That doesn’t make sense.”

“Why not?” Williams shot back. “If you knew you’re gonna have a DNA test result, why would you even play father or a role of a child that you feel is not yours?”

Okay, hold on now. I’m not understanding why you are so angry with him? ‘Cause let’s be honest. The child’s three years old. This man, in my estimation, has done a lot. A lot more than some men I’ve seen.

The audience applauded again.

“I understand that,” Davis said quietly.

To potentially be a part of this child’s life. The mere fact that the car broke down in front of your mother’s house is evidence to me—and you both testified to that—is evidence to me he was coming over there.

“Mm-hmm.”

Now you’re saying he was staying over there.

“Yes.”

Got it. So what’s wrong with that?

“With her boyfriend,” Williams said. “She had a boyfriend at the time living there. While I was there.”

The judge turned to the audience. “I want to hear from your witness, sir. I need to understand this full story.”

A woman stood up and walked to the podium.

“State your name for the court.”

“Laquanta Bryant.”

Miss Bryant, you are Mr. Williams’ girlfriend?

“Yes, ma’am.”

Current girlfriend?

“Yes, ma’am.”

All right. So do you or do you not believe this is Mr. Williams’ son?

“I don’t believe it.”

You don’t believe it?

“I don’t believe it. Because they had took a test. A home kit test that was supposed to be back in two days. Mrs. Davis told us it takes two and a half weeks to get the test back. But on the box it says two days. She finally said she got the test back two and a half weeks later. ‘Come on over here. Come and get it.’ We’re expecting to come over there and get a paper saying, hey, this is your son for Mr. Eddie Williams. She gives us a phony email address that is not even registered at all. When we put it in there, it says, ‘No account found.’ So there’s no account under that name. So we called her back. She kinda has an attitude. ‘I don’t know what to tell you. That’s it. That’s what I tell you.’ Kinda silly acting. Instead of—to me, if you are for sure that is Mr. Williams’ son and ain’t nothing to say, here you go. Here you go. I would have printed it out myself. I will give you my personal information.”

So you’re saying she gave you account information?

“Account information. But for what? To get the results that she was given.”

Correct. So the account information you got—it was what? An email address?

“Yes.”

And a password?

“And a password.”

It was phony?

“That didn’t exist.”

Williams held up another piece of paper. “I have evidence.”

The judge examined it. “It’s just sad,” Bryant said. “Because I’m giving it to you. It’s just sad that you’ve been here. You’re in a relationship with him, but seeing you being a woman and providing $44.50 for a DNA test… you sold his car!”

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“I still have it.”

“But the agreement was he should have provided the $44.50 for the test.”

“Come on, now.”

“Well, he didn’t.”

All right, let’s get some order, ladies. Miss Bryant, hold on. I want to understand your testimony. You get this email and password. I see this here, there’s an email address…

“My point exactly.”

“…turned the test in.”

“Oh, wait a minute. Oh, you didn’t turn it in?”

“Wow. Wow.”

“Wait a minute. Miss Davis, you said what?”

“I never turned the test in.”

“That is sad.”

“But she’s ready to put me on child support,” Williams said. “And she wonders why…”

Miss Davis, so why go through the whole trouble of giving them this email address and this password if you never turned the test in? So the whole story about you getting the results via email was a lie?

“It wasn’t a lie. It…”

“It just wasn’t the truth,” Williams said.

Mr. Williams knew he had to pay the $44.50…

“No. We’re not talking about the $44.50. We’re talking about the results. Did you tell them that you had a result?”

“Yeah. I did.”

“Like I said, Your Honor, I know for a fact that he’s not my son. He’s not my child.”

“Are you for sure?”

“Was you or was you not born with an extra finger?” Davis demanded.

“I know I wasn’t born with you.”

“Was you or was you not born with an extra finger?”

Okay. All right. Listen. I want to understand all the testimony before I move on to the next set of proofs. I just want to understand from what you’re saying, Miss Bryant, is when you got this email address and this password and you logged on. It what?

“It wasn’t even an account. It was a phony account.”

And now we understand why she gave you a phony account. I can see you are getting very upset. But she’s admitted that she never turned the test in. So she couldn’t give you a real account ’cause there was no test done.

“That’s why we called you.”

Now, Miss Davis, you started talking about some physical proof.

“Yes. My son was born with two extra fingers, and I have evidence of the nubs of everything. Of my child. May I give that to you?”

Yes. Please.

She handed over a photograph.

“Your child is born with what they call a sixth finger. Which really looks like a little bump on the side of his hand.”

“Right. Because when he was three weeks, the doctor put some little strings around them and they fell off.”

So my baby was born with one on each hand, and Mr. Williams has one on his left hand.

So in your mind that furthered your belief that Mr. Williams is your child’s biological father?

“Yes, Your Honor. It did.”

“I will acknowledge the birth traits,” Williams said, “but my mother doesn’t have those. My father doesn’t have those. So that’s no proof that that’s my son. I can’t say I got this, my dad must have it or my mother must have one. Neither one of my parents have those. So that doesn’t prove anything.”

Okay. As for this conversion claim, Mr. Williams, I have listened to the testimony. Cars just don’t disappear. But I have not heard any proof that she actually sold it. I have listened to her. I have listened to you. I don’t know what happened to the car. But unfortunately, you have not presented enough evidence to this court to prove that she was responsible for its disappearance or it being sold. So for that reason, I have to dismiss your suit.

“That’s all right,” Williams said.

All right? Moving on. Ron?

“Yes, ma’am. I’m ready for the results.”

The judge opened the envelope.

“These results were prepared by DNA Diagnostics and they read as follows. In the case of Williams v. Davis, when it comes to three-year-old Charles… it has been determined by this court, Mr. Williams, you are the father.”

Bryant gasped. “Wow.”

Davis laughed, clapping her hands.

“Is that joy?” the judge asked.

“Yes, it is! Yes, it is, ma’am.”

“I just want to make sure that we don’t do clowning. ‘Cause I’m responsible enough… but is that joy that it is finally out?”

“Yes, it is. Good luck, girl. Yes. Yes. Yes. It is. Thank you so much. I really appreciate it.”

“Wow,” Bryant said again.

Mr. Williams, how do you feel?

“I’m a little irritated because now I have another child to deal with for eighteen years. And I’m not talking about Charles, my son. But I’m excited because me and my son do have a connection already. So more about her happiness is gonna be his future, and that’s what I’m focused on.”

The audience applauded.

“Good,” the judge said.

Part 2

The courtroom cleared, but the weight of the verdict lingered like cigarette smoke in a closed bar. Williams walked out with his head down, Bryant’s hand gripping his arm. Davis followed behind them, carrying Charles Jr. on her hip, the baby’s tiny fingers wrapped around a juice box.

Three years. Three years of not knowing. Three years of a car seat with stains, a name that didn’t fit, a father who showed up only when the DNA test forced him to.

The hinged sentence of that case came from Williams himself, early in the testimony: “If you’re accusing me of being your child’s father, why would you show no sympathy?” He was talking about the car. But he could have been talking about everything else too.

Sympathy. Empathy. The basic human decency of saying, “I see you struggling, and I’ll help.”

Davis didn’t have that. She had survival instincts. She had a list of men and a calendar full of question marks. She had a son named after a boyfriend who refused to sign the birth certificate. And when Williams showed up—confused, broke, driving a car that would soon disappear—she treated him like an ATM that kept declining her card.

The $2,500 Pontiac Firebird became a symbol of everything wrong with their dynamic. Williams needed that car to work, to provide, to prove he could be a father. Davis, whether she sold it or let it get stolen or simply watched it vanish, didn’t care. Because the car wasn’t her problem. The baby wasn’t even her problem, not really. Her problem was the same as it had always been: she was alone, and she wanted someone to blame for it.

The second case that day was different. Quieter. But somehow more painful.

“Ms. Brown, you’re here today suing your mother for $2,200 for emotional distress, you say, she’s caused you by not knowing who your biological father is.”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

Now, the court has located one possible father and must determine if there is enough evidence to order a paternity test. Ms. Brown Overstreet, you admit to making mistakes as a mother, but claim you shouldn’t be held accountable in court for your daughter’s pain.

“Yes, Your Honor.”

You hope there’s enough evidence presented today to prove that the man in court today is your daughter’s biological father.

“Yes, Your Honor.”

So, Ms. Brown, how does it feel to be suing your mother?

“Not as bad as it felt growing up.”

We want the truth in this courtroom.

“My mom was not there as much as she should have been there. I asked her on several occasions, ‘Do you know who my father could be?’ My mama just said, ‘I don’t know. I don’t know.’ Every time I asked her was, ‘I don’t know, I don’t know.’ She gave me a list of men. It’s about six or seven guys.”

“Sixty-seven?” the judge asked.

“About six or seven.”

She handed over a piece of paper. “So she gave you six or seven names of possible fathers.”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

Are they ranked in order of probability?

“No, ma’am, they’re not.”

One of them, we had to do a DNA test. And it turns out he wasn’t my father.

And is he listed on this?

“Yes, ma’am.”

Which one is he?

“He’s the first one. The man in the navy.”

Lee?

“Yes, Your Honor.”

Not the father, proven by a DNA test.

“Yes, Your Honor.”

So the man, Clifton Smith, who’s in our court today, has not been tested yet?

“No, Your Honor. I never knew who could be my father. I didn’t know who he could be, I didn’t know who he was. I was in and out of foster care on three different occasions. Foster care wasn’t so good. I had four brothers and a sister. I didn’t know where they were. They got split up too. My grandmother got us back. She got sick. I had missed three months of school. Got kicked out. I was in alternative school. I got kicked out because my grandma got sick and I had to take care of her.”

And so, what level of school did you finish, hon?

“Ninth grade.”

You went to the ninth grade.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Then you had to take care of your grandmother.

“Yes, ma’am. And take care of my brothers.”

Ms. Brown Overstreet, how does it feel to hear your daughter speak with such pain in her heart?

“I mean, it’s difficult to even say to another mother, but that your daughter blames you. I feel like my daughter hates me because of the fact that I wasn’t always there. And I didn’t have a handbook on how to be a parent. I had my kids young, and it was six—I have six of them. So it wasn’t like it was just one child. I had a hard time trying to be a mother. I didn’t know how to raise my kids. And when I lost custody of them, I tried my best to get them back, and I kind of gave up on myself. I can admit that I was young and I was wild. And I was kind of promiscuous, so I did not know who her father was.”

Did you approach any of those men and say, “I’m pregnant, and I think you’re the father,” or did you just leave them all alone?

“I just left them all alone.”

So, Ms. Brown, please tell the court. What was life like without a father?

“Growing up without a father in your life. Your Honor, it was hard. I can barely sit up and describe how hard my life has been. Not only without a father, without my mom. I remember, I was about six or seven. I had my oldest brother, he was about three years older than me. He taught me how to ride a bike. He taught me how to tie my shoe. How to spell. He taught me basically everything I know. And I admit, she did a little of some of what she was supposed to. But I guess she thought that giving me money would erase all the past memories that I had because of her. She used to give me money all the time. Money don’t pay for what I went through. I was tormented as a child.”

You say you were tormented.

“Tormented.”

Living without your father.

“Yes, yes, Your Honor.”

And your mother.

“Yes, Your Honor.”

You say she’s caused you extreme emotional distress.

“Yes, Your Honor.”

Tell your mother how you feel.

“I feel like it’s a possibility that my life could have been better if I knew who my dad was. And maybe he could have saved me from everything that happened. And maybe I would have never went to foster care. I never… if he had been in my life.”

I never meant for that to happen to you. But I gave up on myself, so I didn’t even know what you were going through.

“Well, when you have kids, sometimes you have to give up on yourself to do for your children.”

The audience applauded.

“I understand that. I’m sorry.”

Did you hear your mother say she was sorry?

“Yes, Your Honor.”

Do you believe that she is?

“Somewhat, I do.”

The judge laughed. “I said, wait a minute, now.”

So when you heard about Mr. Smith. Take me to that day, when you found out about him.

“Your Honor, I was working in my hometown. And this guy just shows up. He was staring at me. I’m like, ‘Who is this guy?’ When I went and got to my manager’s desk, he tells me, ‘Oh, hey, I’m your dad. You’re my daughter.’”

Um-huh.

“So I ask my ma, when I get off work, I say, ‘There’s this guy that came up to my job. Mr. Smith.’ I told her his name, she said, ‘Oh, yeah, there’s a possibility that he is your dad.’ Now, I’m eighteen now. I’m grown. Out of all these years, why is he trying to come into my life now? Why are you just now telling me that it’s a possibility that he could be my father?”

So were you angry with your mother that she hadn’t ever mentioned Mr. Smith’s name? Or were you angry with Mr. Smith for trying to come and find you after all these years? Or both?

“I was mad with both of them.”

Well, he’s here today. I’d like to hear from him. Jerome, please escort Mr. Smith into the courtroom.

Clifton Smith walked in wearing a button-down shirt and a nervous smile. He looked like a man who had been waiting twenty-two years for this moment and still wasn’t sure he wanted it.

“Mr. Smith, thank you for joining us today. Please tell the court about the first day you met Ms. Brown.”

“We go back a long time. So when I called her, she said that she was trying to find the father of our daughter. I said, ‘Wouldn’t it be funny if I was the father?’ She was like, ‘Oh, yeah, I forgot all about you.’ I’m like, ‘She forgot all about me?’ Then I was adding up the days. If I have a child out there, I want to know. So when I pulled up, I get out of the car and my cousin pointed her out, so I was looking at her. And she came up and I said something to her first. And she was smiling at me like I was trying to flirt with her or something. So I’m like, ‘Whoa, whoa, hold up here. I might be your father, and you busy trying to flirt with me?’”

Right.

“You know, cut it out, right there. So when I told her that, her expression just changed. I mean, smile just wiped off her face. Now I’m getting daggers thrown at me. Now I told her, ‘I’m gonna see you tonight. This ain’t over.’”

And you are hopeful. You truly are hopeful.

“I love her already. You know, that’s my big knucklehead. I want her in my life. And I’m sorry that I wasn’t there, but it wasn’t my fault, you know. And I was listening to what she was saying, what she went through. And it bothered me ’cause I wasn’t her father to take care of her, to do what I needed to do. So that bothers me a lot. You know, if she’s my child, I should have been there. No child should be without their parent, you know. And it bothers me.”

The audience applauded.

“It was a fling when I got with her that summer. And she had a boyfriend at the time. We got together, it was more than once. And I went back home for the summer. I came back for the winter vacation. And I saw her, and I’m like, ‘Wow, you look a little fat there.’ She says to me, ‘I ain’t fat, I’m pregnant.’ The next thing that came out of my mouth was, ‘Who’s the father?’ She said, ‘Don’t worry about it. It ain’t you.’”

So she told you it was not you.

“That’s it. So that’s why I didn’t think nothing of it no more. Because I tried to stand up right then and there. I did what I did, and I had to be a man about this whole thing and take care of my responsibility. And that’s why I’m here. You know, to take care of what’s mine. That’s all.”

Good, that’s good to hear.

The audience applauded again.

You stated in your court papers, though, that you have reason to have doubt. And you just stated in court today that she had a boyfriend during the time you slept with her.

“Oh, yes.”

Okay. My reason is when I was ten years old, I hurt myself really bad. I got picture evidence to show you.

What happened?

“Well, you know what a folding couch is? A couch that turns into a bed?”

Yes.

“Well, I was folding it back into a couch. My underwear got hooked on a spring, and I yanked it, but it went in a lot more, and my underwear just ripped everything open.”

The audience groaned.

“Let me see that evidence, Jerome.”

“I didn’t remember him,” the mother said quickly. “That was the problem. It was horrible, so I didn’t remember even having sex with him. So it wasn’t my fault that I didn’t remember. He probably remembered it, but I didn’t remember it.”

Okay. Wow.

“This is a photo of your genitalia,” the judge said.

“God, Your Honor!” Smith exclaimed.

The audience burst into laughter.

And your concern is that you’re unable to have children because of this injury.

“That’s what the doctor told me. That when I get older, I might not be able to.”

So you were told by a medical professional you may not be able to have children.

“They said may not. It’s not one hundred percent.”

May. Exactly.

What we need to do is determine whether or not a paternity test needs to be ordered in light of this evidence regarding your injury. So the court has asked a medical expert to come and share some light on this.

Dr. Gater from the Rise Men’s Medical Clinic walked to the stand. She was board-certified, calm, and holding a clipboard.

“Dr. Gater, you’ve reviewed the evidence in this case?”

“Yes.”

Mr. Smith contends that he had a serious injury, and a doctor told him he may not be able to have children because of this. We are trying to determine whether it’s even appropriate to order a DNA test. Can you shed light on the likelihood?

“I believe I can. It’s absolutely possible, in my opinion, for Mr. Smith—or someone with a testicular injury such as his—to father a child. Nature often gives us two of what’s important. On average, a man releases anywhere between fifty million and a billion sperm at a time. So if one testicle isn’t functioning, you can cut that number in half to, say, twenty-five million. Fertility doesn’t become an issue until that number drops below ten million. So based on the numbers, it’s definitely possible for someone with a testicular injury to still father a child. As long as the swimmers are normal and healthy.”

The audience applauded.

All right. So in this case, you therefore could potentially be Ms. Brown’s father. And for this reason, the court is going to order a DNA test and order you to submit to that test, so we can get this young woman the answer she deserves.

The second hinged sentence came from Shantia Brown herself, just before she left the courtroom: “Money is not gonna pay for what I went through.” She was right. Two thousand two hundred dollars wouldn’t erase the foster care placements, the missed school, the brother who taught her to tie her shoes because her mother was too busy giving up on herself.

Part 3

The third case of the day was the messiest. Five kids, two possible fathers, one baby who didn’t ask for any of it.

“Miss Martin, you say that the father of your four kids treats your newborn baby like an evil stepchild.”

“Yes, Your Honor. Because he doubts paternity.”

Furthermore, you claim that his behavior has forced you to take the kids and leave him.

“Yes, Your Honor.”

You’re asking the court to award you $3,100 for the next six months of child care expenses.

“Yes, Your Honor. I should be paid.”

All right, Mr. Blackman. You argue that Miss Martin has confessed to cheating with another man and it has left you unsure which of you fathered your youngest child.

“Yes, Your Honor.”

Now, Miss Martin’s lover has also been tested, and we will meet him in a moment.

“Her lover?” the judge asked.

“Miss Martin’s lover.”

“Your lover?”

“That’s what he was at the time.”

All right, so Miss Martin, when did your relationship with Mr. Blackman start to go downhill?

“When I stopped feeling loved and appreciated. We have five kids together. Six, with his daughter, who is also my stepchild. I just never felt loved, appreciated. He always called me fat. ‘You lazy. You nasty. You don’t do this. You don’t do that.’”

But how can I when I got a man saying all these things to me?

“I only say what I see,” Blackman shot back. “You expect to come home to a cooked meal and all of this… sometimes.”

“I never even got a back rub.”

“I carried and bore four children for you.”

“That’s the only way I would get some is to give you a back rub!”

Exactly. So what type of man are you, though?

“Don’t say that.”

What type of man does that make you?

“Don’t say that.”

Okay. Well, what about when I get tired of coming home, seeing you with nasty feet hanging off the couch? The kids running up to me telling me they’re hungry…

“Oh, Mr. Blackman, really?”

“When you got all these kids, a pedicure is the last thing on your list.”

Now, you’re in this because…

“I gave him an ultimatum. I was ready to get married. I felt, like, after six years, why are you not ready?”

“That’s because you’re exploring your options. Maybe you’re looking for something better, I don’t know. But if that’s the case, then let me go.”

So you left?

“Yes, and he begged me to come back, and now he wants to get married.”

“I asked you to come back because it was around Christmas time, and I ain’t never spent a Christmas away from my children. I didn’t beg you to do nothing.”

He could have had his kids without me.

So you left, and while you were gone, you met…

“I met Treandos.”

All right. Mr. Stevenson? Tell me about that relationship.

“I met him, we got drunk, we had sex. And I liked it, and he made me feel good. Better than he made me feel ever.”

So you were with him for about three months?

“Mm-hmm.”

Now, did you feel guilty? Did you miss home?

“I didn’t feel guilty because he did a lot. He cheated. He’s no saint.”

I didn’t claim to be no saint. But we got past that. I was faithful to him. We were trying to build a life together.

“He thought that we got past it, but I was still dealing with a lot of hurt and pain. I wanted to make it work for my kids.”

You see, Your Honor, she only wanted to make it work for her kids, not for me. That means she couldn’t… you wasn’t trying to make it work for me.

So you were in an intimate relationship with Mr. Stevenson?

“Yes, Your Honor.”

Did you go back to Mr. Blackman?

“Yes, she came back.”

Yes, I did.

Why did you go back?

“Because I loved him. I was not in love with him, but I loved him, and I thought we had a fighting chance.”

So you went back. At that point, were you faithful to Mr. Blackman?

“Yes, Your Honor.”

He’s shaking his head no.

“Well, let’s just say I don’t believe that. That smirk you did after the statement ‘I was faithful’ did not look truthful.”

Thank you.

So what’s the truth?

“I was not faithful to him because I caught feelings for Treandos.”

All right. So you weren’t faithful to him?

“Mm-mm.”

You were still sleeping with Mr. Stevenson?

“Yes, Your Honor. I was dropping him off at work, dropping the kids off at school, and I would go to be with him for the rest of the day.”

So when the van gassed up…

“And you were intimate with Mr. Stevenson and also Mr. Blackman around the same time.”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Well, I was trying to say that we have a van that breaks down from time to time. It broke down. And the first time it broke down, it needed a fuel pump. This by two, three days. Then the second time, it went out for a whole week and a half. I’m talking to her on the phone. ‘Why you ain’t trying to get home?’ ‘Oh, I’m worried about somebody stealing the van.’ I go out there, give the battery a charge. Didn’t have to change nothing. Give the battery a charge, the van start right up.”

Oh.

So you’re saying she got out there and said the van broke down and was out there hanging out and being with Mr. Stevenson?

“Yes. But pretending to you she had a breakdown and had no way to get home.”

Exactly.

Is this true, Ms. Martin?

“Yes, Your Honor.”

All right, so you find out you’re pregnant. Do you tell Mr. Stevenson and Mr. Blackman?

“I told both of them.”

“No, she tried to pass the baby off on me first. She come to tell me some mess about, ‘We can’t afford no baby,’ and ‘I got pregnant on such and such month,’ and then she tell me the sex of the baby. I look at her and say, ‘You know this ain’t my baby. There’s no way.’”

But it is a possibility. We had sex.

All right. So did you tell Mr. Stevenson that he may be the father too?

“Yes, Your Honor.”

What was his reaction?

“He was happy for a minute, and then he just disappeared. He completely disappeared. I didn’t hear from him for another four or five months.”

Happy for a minute, then disappeared?

“Mm-hmm.”

Jerome, I think it’s time we meet Mr. Stevenson.

Treandos Stevenson walked in wearing a hoodie and a defensive scowl. He looked like a man who had been dragged to court against his will and was already planning his escape.

“Mr. Stevenson, thank you for being here. When Ms. Martin told you she was pregnant, what was your initial reaction?”

“First I was happy, then I just disappeared.”

She said that. That’s exactly what she said.

Why did you disappear?

“She kept calling me a deadbeat daddy, this and that. I got tired of listening to her.”

“Because he wasn’t there,” Martin said. “That’s what you was.”

He brought a used car seat to the hospital.

Who did?

“Mr. Stevenson.”

Okay, not to be funny, but what’s wrong with a used car seat?

“It had stains all over it.”

When was he at the hospital?

“Yeah, he been to the hospital.”

This is news to you, huh, Mr. Blackman?

“After the baby was born, he came to the hospital. On my children’s life.”

“I ain’t never know this man came to no hospital.”

After the baby was born, me, my mother, and my granny.

Well, what part… you forget to tell me that part, huh?

“No. I didn’t think it was important.”

You didn’t think it was important?

“Nobody stepped up. He was there. But he had to go back home for the kids. After I had the baby, Mr. Stevenson came. He was just like, ‘Oh, I want a DNA test.’ And he wants the baby to have his name. But he didn’t want to sign the birth certificate. He was drilling me about a last name, and I gave him Blackman. My baby’s name is Ramere Jeremiah Blackman.”

So you gave him Mr. Blackman’s last name?

“Ain’t nobody signed the birth certificate. My name is the only one on there.”

Well, you want to give your child a name… so why were you so stuck on giving him my name?

The audience laughed.

That’s a fair question, Ms. Martin. Why his name?

“Because I thought the baby was his.”

In your heart, you thought it was his?

“Yes, Your Honor.”

And Mr. Blackman, do you believe Ramere is your baby?

“Your Honor, it’s a possibility.”

Well, if it’s a possibility, then why do you treat him like crap? Ms. Martin, how does he treat Ramere differently?

“He don’t touch him. He won’t even look at him. Like, if he’s in the same room, he just acts totally blank. If the baby started crying and I stepped out of the room, he’ll say to the kids, ‘Tell your mama to come get that baby.’”

Your Honor, it’s true. My daughter is four. She’s told him to his face, like, ‘Why you treating the baby like this, Daddy? Get your baby. Hold your baby. Why you doing my mommy like this?’”

All right, now listen. Mr. Blackman, I’m trying to understand. Are you truly treating this child poorly?

“If you compare it to the way I treat my other children, yes.”

All right. So Ms. Martin, you’ve brought a witness.

A woman stood up. “My name is Gloria Blackman. I’m Mr. Blackman’s sister.”

The audience gasped.

Here as Ms. Martin’s witness?

“My brother, he’s so far removed. That’s a baby. As far as I’m concerned, neither one of them did anything. I did everything from the day the baby was born to right now.”

So Ms. Blackman, let me ask you. Do you believe Ramere is your biological nephew?

“I do. I think he looks like the child before him. I think he looks just like him. I think he has my brother’s nose.”

And I see it makes you very emotional just to talk about the child.

“Well, it’s like… I feel so hurt for both of them. They’re just like… it’s crazy.”

It’s not my fault. I didn’t tell her to go lay with this man.

“So what? You cheated a million and one times, Rayal.”

“It’s still about the baby, Rayal.”

“You bring all kinds of women around my kids. How do you think that made me feel?”

“I didn’t know that.”

“And you know what? He’s acting hard. He loves this woman. He’s just frightened. It’s going to kill him, and it’s breaking my heart for both of them because I love them so much. They have such beautiful four children together. And this stuff is just killing me.”

All right, Ms. Blackman, thank you so much for your testimony. You may be seated.

Now, Mr. Stevenson, have you been around at all since the baby has been born?

“She won’t even bring him around. I seen him twice. At the hospital, and when she came to my house about a week later. Other than that, I haven’t seen them.”

You took the baby to the man’s house?

“She sure did.”

“He needed a father. You didn’t want to be there.”

So she brought the baby to your house?

“Yes, ma’am.”

And then after that, what happened?

“He started on him all over again. After he bragged, ‘my baby’ this, ‘my baby’ that. Because at the same time, she started calling me a deadbeat daddy. I got tired of it.”

“What were you doing? You didn’t do anything. Came to the hospital empty-handed. And then she text my phone and tell me, ‘The baby ain’t yours, no way.’”

Ms. Martin, from where I sit, it does sound like you perhaps have been playing both sides of this equation when it’s convenient for you.

“That’s not true.”

If both of these men could be your child’s father, and you’ve had them both at the hospital and you’ve let them both spend time with the child since he was born, why don’t they both understand that? And you’re only suing one of them.

“Because he treated me like crap, and he was the reason I had to leave my house because it was too stressful for me. And I feel like he owes me for moving expenses and my bills and everything.”

You are suing for $3,100?

“Yes, Your Honor. Until I’m able to get up on my feet, being that we do have these other kids together.”

What’s getting me is you standing here, suing Mr. Blackman, but you’re mad at Mr. Stevenson because he brought a used car seat up for a baby that he wasn’t even sure was his.

“And I told him he could have kept it. I left it there where it was.”

Well, for a woman with so much nerve that you can tell people to take their car seat and take their this, why don’t you have enough money to move yourself? And you gotta rely on his sister to pay for your child that you lay down and made with two different men and don’t know who the father is? And you’re sitting up here talking about, ‘They not man enough to do this,’ and ‘He’s not man enough to do this,’ when you’re not woman enough to know that when you lay down with men and have a baby and don’t know which one is the daddy, you’re going to be the one responsible till you figure out who’s the daddy!

The room fell silent.

Now, we got arbitration. You suing this man. Got all the receipts. Every receipt. ‘Cause you’ve been through this before. And he got what he needed. From whom? Ms. Blackman. And it sounds like to me if there’s somebody here that needs to be filing suit, it’s Ms. Blackman. Your case is dismissed.

The third hinged sentence came from the judge, her voice sharp enough to cut glass: “The only people that have truly paid for these mistakes is Ramere and Ms. Blackman. Because he’s a baby, and he’s not getting treated right because the man that he was living with doesn’t know if he’s the father, so he’s treating him like ‘that baby’—which is wrong. Dead wrong. All the way wrong.”

She turned to Blackman. “I didn’t want my kids to see that.”

“No, be quiet. I’m sick of all of you. That’s wrong.”

She turned to Stevenson. “Now, this one over here, he comes up to the hospital, trying to offer something. It ain’t good enough. He tried! He doesn’t know if the child is his or not. He’s trying to figure it out. You called him a deadbeat. ‘This ain’t good enough.’ Next thing you know, he’s gone. You’re jeopardizing your son being able to have a father.”

She turned to Martin. “You gotta understand that the only reason why you were in that situation was because why?”

“Because I put myself in that situation.”

That’s it. That’s it.

“Let’s go to the results. Jerome.”

“These results were prepared by DNA Diagnostics and they read as follows. In the case of Martin v. Blackman/Stevenson, and whether Rayal Blackman or Treandos Stevenson is Ramere’s father… Mr. Stevenson, you are his father.”

Martin burst into sobs. Stevenson’s face went pale. Blackman stared at the floor.

“Come here,” someone said. “You know you’re driving me…”

“Be all right, okay? Promise me you’re gonna be all right.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Be all right, Rayal, please. Be all right.”

“I’m sorry, Rayal.”

Mr. Blackman?

“Yes, Your Honor.”

Our kids, they’re the ones going to be affected by this. You know?

“I just want this to be over with.”

Mr. Stevenson, how do you feel?

“I feel okay. I know the results now. That’s all I was waiting on.”

And I hope you understand that your son has been under… He’s destroyed a family. That’s what he needs to understand, Your Honor. Please make him understand this.

“She destroyed your family. But you lay down with her.”

You all sit there and talked about me. Keep it real. If we’re going to keep it real, let me tell you something. You all can dish it out, but you sure can’t take it. Can’t take it in. Now, you have cheated and done your thing, and you know it—you didn’t deny it when she said it. Now, I’m not saying she’s right, but you got a taste of your own medicine now, and it’s brutal. All of you have had a part to play in this mess. And all of you have to figure out how to clean it up for Ramere’s sake.

The court will offer counseling for you, and we are going to refer you to more resources in your home state, because this is not going to be overnight. Whether you like it or not, you’re his village. Figure out how to make it work. Are we clear?

“Yes, Your Honor.”

Court is adjourned.

Part 4

The gavel fell three times that day. Three families. Three different kinds of wreckage.

In the first case, a Pontiac Firebird worth $2,500 became the symbol of a relationship built on lies and late-night calls. Williams walked out with a three-year-old son he never wanted and a girlfriend who looked at him like he had just lost the last shred of her respect. Davis walked out with the DNA proof she needed and a baby who would grow up knowing his father had to be dragged to court to claim him.

In the second case, Shantia Brown walked out with nothing. No father. No money. No closure. Just the same void she had been carrying since she was six years old, now with an official court ruling stamped on top. Her mother apologized. Mr. Smith cried. But apologies don’t fill the empty chair at a father-daughter dance, and tears don’t pay for therapy.

In the third case, Ramere Jeremiah Blackman—whose real last name was Stevenson—became the property of a man who showed up to the hospital with a stained car seat and a disappearing act. His mother got $3,100 in her imagination but nothing in her pocket. His father got a court order and a child he didn’t know how to raise. And Ms. Blackman, the sister, got the bill for everyone else’s mistakes.

The fourth hinged sentence belonged to the judge, and it echoed through the hallway long after the cameras stopped rolling: “You’re not woman enough to know that when you lay down with men and have a baby and don’t know which one is the daddy, you’re going to be the one responsible till you figure out who’s the daddy.”

It was brutal. It was honest. And it was true.

But truth doesn’t always set you free. Sometimes it just puts you in a smaller cage.

The fifth hinged sentence came from Shantia Brown, the young woman who had spent twenty-two years searching for a ghost. After the results were read—after Mr. Smith was declared not her father—she stood up, straightened her shirt, and said, “I still don’t know who I am.”

She didn’t cry. She didn’t scream. She just stood there, holding the hand of a man who had wanted to be her father but wasn’t, while her mother sat in the back row with her head in her hands.

I still don’t know who I am.

That’s the thing about paternity cases. People think it’s about money. About child support. About custody. But really, it’s about identity. It’s about looking in the mirror and seeing a stranger. It’s about filling out a medical history form and checking “unknown” in every box. It’s about walking through life with a hole in your chest where a name should be.

Williams will figure it out. He has a son now, a son he already loves despite all the drama. He’ll show up for birthdays and soccer games and school plays, and eventually, the resentment will fade. Or it won’t. Either way, Charles Jr. will have a father.

Martin will figure it out too. She has a baby daddy who actually wants to be involved, even if he shows up with stained car seats and disappears when things get hard. She has a sister-in-law who loves her enough to pay for her child. She has a second chance, if she’s smart enough to take it.

But Shantia Brown? She’s still searching. She’s still looking for a face that looks like hers, for a last name that fits, for an answer to the question that has haunted her since before she could tie her own shoes.

The court is adjourned. But for some people, the search never ends.