Gregory was not a relative.
Iron Jaws presented obvious reputational and environmental concerns.
The court should not confuse emotional loyalty with legal suitability.
Martha agreed with half of it.
Then she changed the question.
“This case is not asking whether a motorcycle club should receive custody of a minor.”
She looked toward the judge.
“It cannot.”
Gregory nodded slightly.
“We are asking whether Gregory Moss, a screened adult with a longstanding connection to Sky’s deceased brother, may provide temporary supervised placement while the court investigates a permanent arrangement.”
Then Martha introduced Luther’s petition.
The courtroom changed.
Sky looked at the document.
Her brother’s signature appeared at the bottom.
Martha explained that Luther had attempted to obtain custody before his death.
Not casually.
Repeatedly.
He had provided references.
Housing information.
Income documentation.
Plans for schooling.
The petition had failed partly because of legitimate concerns and partly because decision-makers had treated every association with Iron Jaws as automatically disqualifying.
Then Martha introduced records from Sky’s placements.
No melodrama.
Dates.
Moves.
Disruptions.
School changes.
Reports from North Creek.
Several complaints from former residents.
Documentation showing staff shortages and disciplinary practices under review.
None of it alone proved North Creek was universally unsafe.
Together, it showed that sending Sky back there without review was not the neutral option the state initially presented.
Terry testified.
Martha asked:
“You have children?”
“Three.”
“Where?”
“With their mother. We’re married.”
“How old?”
“Nineteen, sixteen, eleven.”
“Would you allow your fourteen-year-old to sleep indefinitely in a motorcycle garage?”
“No.”
The state attorney looked mildly surprised.
Martha continued.
“Then why did Sky sleep there?”
“Because she arrived with nowhere safe to go and we didn’t yet know who to call without scaring her into running.”
“Was that ideal?”
“No.”
“What did you do once you understood the situation?”
“Called Martha.”
The judge almost smiled.
Terry continued.
“We got food into her. Got her sleeping. Started gathering records. Then we got legal advice.”
“Why?”
“Because loving somebody doesn’t give you permission to ignore the law.”
Gregory looked toward him.
That sentence stayed in the room.
Lucy testified next.
She described Sky’s work.
Her routine.
How she woke early.
How she painted.
How she reacted to conflict.
How food disappeared into pockets sometimes even when more was available.
“How would you describe Sky’s behavior?” Martha asked.
Lucy thought.
“Prepared to leave.”
“What does that mean?”
“She never fully unpacks.”
Sky lowered her eyes.
Lucy continued.
“She keeps her backpack close. If voices rise, she knows where every exit is. If somebody gives her something, she asks what she owes them.”
The judge looked toward Sky.
Lucy’s voice softened.
“She’s fourteen and she thinks kindness is usually an invoice that hasn’t arrived yet.”
Sky pressed her lips together.
Then Gregory testified.
Martha showed him the old custody petition.
“You knew Luther wanted custody?”
“No.”
“You would have helped?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Whatever the court allowed.”
“Why should the court believe you now?”
Gregory looked at Sky.
Then at the judge.
“It shouldn’t believe me because I say Hollow was my brother.”
He paused.
“It should inspect my home. Check my record. Talk to people who hate me if it wants. Put conditions on me.”
Martha waited.
Gregory continued.
“But don’t send her somewhere because my clothes make me easier to distrust.”
The courtroom went quiet.
Finally, Sky testified.
She sat in the witness chair looking smaller than she had at the garage.
The judge did most of the questioning.
“Do you understand why the state is concerned?”
“Yes.”
“Do you understand you cannot simply choose any adult and declare them your guardian?”
“Yes.”
“Do you understand Mr. Moss will have rules?”
Sky looked toward Gregory.