Chapter 2 - THE RESTRAINING ORDER AND THE FREEZE
By 8:30 a.m. the following morning, I stood beside Christopher outside Courtroom 4B of the Baltimore City Circuit Court. My face was still noticeably swollen on the left side, the purple-and-black bruising along my jawline a stark contrast against my navy blazer.
Across the marble corridor stood Dwight, wearing a grey suit, flanked by his father Jared and their family attorney, a greasy, weary-looking man named Henderson. Jared looked smug, standing with his hands in his pockets as if he owned the courthouse floor. Ryan, Dwight's younger brother, was standing behind them, still looking at his phone.
When Dwight saw me, he stepped forward, trying to project a soft, repentant expression.
"Elizabeth, please," Dwight called out, his voice smooth and performative for the hallway onlookers. "This has gotten completely out of hand. My father lost his temper because you broke a valuable glass table, but we can talk through this like a family. Just drop this silly court motion and come home."
I didn't answer. I didn't even grant him eye contact. I looked straight ahead at the double wooden doors of the courtroom.
Jared sneered, muttering under his breath, "Ungrateful brat. Broke my furniture and runs to a lawyer over a simple slap."
"Mr. Vance," Christopher turned slowly toward Jared, his voice cutting through the corridor like a steel razor. "I strongly suggest you keep your mouth shut until you are under oath. Every word you utter in this hallway is being logged."
Five minutes later, we were standing before Judge Patricia Thomas—a stern woman with silver hair and a reputation for having zero tolerance for domestic violence or financial abuse.
Henderson, their attorney, stepped up first. "Your Honor, this is a minor domestic dispute that escalated unnecessarily. Mrs. Vance had a disagreement with her in-laws regarding household responsibilities, threw a violent tantrum with a metal pipe, destroying personal property, and then walked out. My client, Dwight Vance, simply wants his wife to return home so they can pursue counseling."
Judge Thomas glanced at the police report, then looked at me. "Mrs. Vance, your counsel has filed an ex parte application for a protective order and an emergency financial injunction. What is the basis?"
Christopher stepped forward, placing a heavy flash drive onto the evidence table.
"Your Honor, we present two crucial pieces of evidence," Christopher announced clearly. "First, a video recording taken by the defendant’s brother, Ryan Vance, which clearly depicts Mr. Jared Vance striking my client twice in the face while her husband, Dwight Vance, stood by and encouraged the assault."
Henderson shifted uncomfortably. "Your Honor, that was an isolated incident of—"
"Second," Christopher interrupted sharply, "we present a synchronized video and audio file recovered from a shared folder, recorded seven days prior to the wedding. In this file, Dwight Vance and his co-conspirator, Ashley Thorne, explicitly detail a scheme to steal forty-eight thousand dollars of my client's personal savings, convert her grandmother's trust into marital property through forced emotional distress, and intentionally engineer a false 'abandonment' claim to absorb her assets into Jared Vance's insolvent business."
Judge Thomas stopped writing. Her pen hovered above the yellow pad. She looked up slowly, her eyes fixing onto Dwight and Jared with terrifying intensity.
"Is this true, Mr. Henderson?" Judge Thomas asked, her voice dropping an octave.
"Your... Your Honor," Henderson stammered, his face instantly flushing bright red as he looked back at Dwight, who was suddenly sweating profusely through his collar. "We have not had the opportunity to review this alleged media—"
"I have reviewed it," Judge Thomas interjected coldly. She tapped her computer monitor, where Christopher had submitted the verified file digitally twenty minutes prior. "I have just played the audio clip."
Silence fell over the courtroom—a heavy, suffocating silence.
Judge Thomas pulled a set of official forms toward her and began signing them with violent, decisive strokes of her pen.
"It is hereby ordered," Judge Thomas declared, her voice booming through the room, "that an immediate Emergency Order of Protection is granted to Elizabeth Vance. Dwight Vance, Jared Vance, Susan Vance, and Ryan Vance are barred from coming within five hundred feet of the petitioner, her temporary residence, or her place of employment."
Jared’s mouth fell open. "Now wait a minute, judge—"
"Silence!" Judge Thomas slammed her gavel down with a crack that echoed like a gunshot. "Furthermore, an immediate Freeze Order is issued on all personal and business bank accounts associated with Dwight Vance, Jared Vance, and Vance Commercial Enterprises. The Towson real estate transaction is halted, and the escrow funds of forty-eight thousand dollars are placed under the administrative custody of this court pending full criminal investigation!"
Dwight fell back into his chair, his face entirely drained of color.
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Jared grabbed the edge of the table, his eyes wide with sudden panic. "You frozen my business accounts?! I have payroll on Friday! I have vendor payments due!"
"Then you should have thought about your payroll before you assaulted your daughter-in-law and plotted wire fraud in this jurisdiction, Mr. Vance," Judge Thomas said coldly. "Court is adjourned."
