I wanted support that didn’t depend on either parent getting the last word.

After the first appointment, Brielle showed me a drawing.

The page held two houses separated by a wide blue river.

A small bridge connected them, and on the bridge stood a girl carrying a backpack nearly as big as herself.

“That’s me,” she said.

“I’m always bringing things between houses.”

It was only a picture, but it made me reconsider every bag, sweater, and forgotten stuffed animal we had argued about.

I bought duplicates of ordinary supplies so the children wouldn’t have to carry the entire practical burden of our disagreement.