Chapter 6 — Your Son, My Son

Joe lunged for the stage.

I want to be precise about the sequence, because it matters: my husband’s first instinct, seeing his ten-year-old son holding evidence, was to lunge at the child.

And I moved.

I was between Joe and Tommy before I had decided to be, my hand flat on my husband’s chest, and I looked him in the eyes with a calm I did not feel.

“Control your son,” Joe spat at me, low and furious.