She’d drafted the paperwork; I’d been too afraid to authorize the filing.

“Vanessa,” I said, my voice steady. “It’s Elena.”

“Elena. Have things escalated?”

“He pushed me down the icy steps last night. My arm is broken.” I kept my tone clinical. “But more importantly, my spirit is finally intact. I’m ready.”

A pause, then furious typing. “Say the word. I can have a judge sign the ex parte protective order and the divorce petition by noon.”

“I don’t just want him served, Vanessa,” I said. “I want him served tonight. At the house. In front of twenty of his closest friends, colleagues, and family.