Mark finally picked up the envelope. His fingers shook as he opened it, but his voice came out sharp. “Daniel can’t represent you. He represented both of us on the house.” “He doesn’t represent me,” I said. Daniel leaned back. “Rachel Kim does. I only helped Claire organize bank statements and gave her Rachel’s number.” That mattered. Daniel knew exactly where the ethical line was, and he had stayed on the safe side of it. Rachel, a family-law attorney in downtown Columbus, had filed the motions that afternoon. The papers in Mark’s hands were copies.
Mark scanned the first page. “You’re asking for temporary sole custody?” “I’m asking for stability until the court can hear everything.” “I’m their father.” “You were their father from Barcelona too.” His eyes snapped toward me. For three weeks, I had imagined this confrontation. In every version I screamed. In reality, I felt strangely cold.
Mark threw the papers onto the table. “This is insane. I took a break.” Daniel’s expression hardened. “A break is sleeping at your brother’s house for a weekend. You crossed an ocean after your wife told you your toddler was sick.” “You don’t know what our marriage was like.” “No,” Daniel said. “But I know you told me you were going to Europe with Emma.”
The room went silent.
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