Christine spat a final incoherent curse, pivoted on her heel, and marched back to her rusty sedan, her kingdom of terror permanently shattered.

Chapter 5: Project River

The divorce mediation took exactly twenty minutes.

We met at a neutral coffee shop near the courthouse. Tom looked like a reanimated corpse in a stained tracksuit, his eyes hollowed by insomnia and the understanding that his life was in ruins.

He signed the no-fault settlement, reimbursing my down payment in full.

“Is there really no going back?” he whispered, staring at his own trembling signature.

“I spared you a felony conviction, Tom.” I slid the papers into my briefcase. “Consider it my parting gift. Get therapy.”