And he laughed — one syllable, dry — and said, “Are you really going to turn eighteen years into a legal war?”

And I said: “The war started on Monday when you told me I had nothing.

I spent three days believing you.

My children slept on a floor in Bridgeport for two nights because of a sentence you knew was false when you said it.”

He had no answer to that and he did not try to find one.

He asked to see the children.

I said no.