My Daughter Took My Hand After School and Said, “Mom, Divorce Dad — He Doesn’t Love Us.” That Night, Over One Chicken Leg, I Finally Listened
My lawyer listened to the whole of it without once interrupting.
Then she walked me, patiently, through how the process would go, and she began drafting the papers — the divorce itself, full custody, child support, the division of what there was to divide.
It was strange to watch five years of my life be sorted into clauses on a legal pad.
It was also, I found, the first thing in a very long time that made me feel like a person with a floor under her feet.
Chapter 10 — The Faked Accident
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