The first time we met, I brought a folder holding the mortgage notice, printouts from the bank, and all twenty-six of Finn’s notes.

Howard didn’t start by asking what I wanted to do to Brandi.

He asked where Finn would be sleeping that night, whether his medical care was set up, and who could get him from school if I got held up at the refinery.

He jotted down Gloria’s number and Ms.

Tran’s.

Then he asked if I understood that the temporary order wasn’t the end of anything.

“Family court doesn’t work like flipping a light switch,” he said.