Chapter 6
We filed the charges at 9 a.m. the next morning.
Lila and I walked into the precinct together, heads high, all our evidence organized in labeled folders, Mia right behind us for moral support.
The detective assigned to our case was a woman named Carter, sharp and no-nonsense, with a scar across her left eyebrow and a wedding ring on her finger.
She read through every page of our evidence, asked a hundred questions, and then leaned back in her chair, her face tight.
“This is one of the worst cases of spousal fraud I’ve ever seen,” she said. “We’ll pick him up today. No bail. He’s a flight risk, and he’s already harassed both of you. He won’t get out before trial.”
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
Lila squeezed my hand, hard.
We left the precinct an hour later, the sun bright in the sky, and went out for breakfast.
Pancakes.
Bacon.
Lots of coffee.
We laughed a little, shaky, disbelieving laughs, about how stupid Daniel had been, how he’d left all his evidence out in the open, how he’d thought he could get away with everything forever.
By noon, Detective Carter called.
They’d picked Daniel up at Lila’s apartment, where he’d been banging on her door, screaming threats.
He was in custody.
No bail.
Arraignment the next day.
I hung up the phone, closed my eyes, and let the relief wash over me.
He couldn’t hurt us anymore.
Not today.
Not ever again, if I had anything to say about it.
I picked the kids up from school that afternoon, their backpacks slung over their shoulders, chattering about their day, and I knew it was time.
I took them to the park first, bought them ice cream, let them run around the playground until they were tired, their cheeks pink from the sun.
Then we sat on a bench, their little hands in mine, and I told them the truth.
Gentle.
Simple.
Honest.
“Daddy made some very bad choices,” I said. “He hurt people. He hurt me. He hurt Lila, who is a nice lady who is going to have a baby soon. And because of those bad choices, he has to stay away for a while, to learn how to be better.”
Jake frowned, his little brow furrowed.
“Is he in trouble?” he said.
“Yes, baby,” I said. “He is. But it’s not your fault. None of it is your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. I love you more than anything in the whole world, and I will always keep you safe. Okay?”
Lily started crying then, big, fat tears rolling down her cheeks, and I pulled her into my lap, Jake curling into my side, and held them both while they cried.
They asked a hundred questions.
When would they see him?
Did he still love them?
Would he come home?
I answered every one as honestly as I could, no lies, no sugarcoating, just the truth, soft and warm, wrapped in as much love as I could give.
By the time we got home, they were tired, their eyes puffy, but they held my hands tight, like they knew I was telling them the truth.
That night, we made a fort in the living room out of blankets and couch cushions, popped popcorn, watched their favorite Disney movie, and fell asleep all together on the floor, the kids curled into my sides, their breathing soft and even.
My phone pinged around 10 p.m., waking me up.
A text from Lila.
A photo of her holding the real diamond necklace in her hand, the other on her stomach.
“Dropped it off at the precinct as evidence,” the text said. “Never want to see it again. We did good today. Sleep well, Ellie.”
I smiled, typed back “You too,” and put the phone down.
I looked at the two little faces sleeping next to me, their hair messy, their hands curled into my shirt, and I knew.
No matter what happened next.
No matter how hard the fight got.
May you like
I would do anything for them.
Anything.
