A former colleague of David’s, a man who had never for one second believed the rumors about him, hired him within the week as a remote senior project manager.

It was steady, dignified, well-paid work that he could do from the apartment, on a schedule that fit around his sons.

And so, within days, my son had a home with three bedrooms and a lock on the door, a job with a real income, and a father sitting across the kitchen table from him every morning.

It was not victory.

Victory was a long way off.

But it was ground to stand on, and a man who is standing on solid ground looks very different, to himself and to a court, than a man who is drowning.