“Judge Vance is going to need more than hospital papers to give you sole custody,” Derek said.

“I know that,” Michael said.

By eleven thirty Michael was standing over the metal workbench in Derek’s shop office.

The sharp smell of motor oil and burnt rubber hung heavy in the cold air.

Michael opened his red ledger and laid it flat on a clean shop towel.

Derek wiped thick black grease off a heavy half-inch socket wrench with a blue rag.

Michael lined up his printed bank statements from the last three months in a neat row.