He never understood that none of it was luck, and none of it was sudden.

Every wall he hit that night had been built, quietly, in the hours and days before, out of ordinary materials available to anyone: a police report filed rather than a fight forgotten, a protective order requested rather than a threat endured, a deed kept in my own name, a lawyer called at the right hour, a bank alerted with the right documents.

Individually, each was a small, unglamorous, bureaucratic act.

Together, assembled in the correct order, they formed a fortress that a furious man with far more money than me could not breach.