Chapter 7 - THE ADDRESS THEY HID FROM ME
“No contact permitted?”
I read the words aloud.
Michael reached across the table.
“Lauren, that's private.”
I moved the luggage tag away from him.
“It's about my daughter.”
“It's a travel instruction.”
“Then why does it have my name on it?”
He didn't answer.
Sophie stared at the tag.
“Am I in trouble?”
I immediately turned toward her.
“No, sweetheart.”
She looked uncertain.
“Daddy said I wasn't supposed to show anybody.”
I took her hand.
“I'm glad you showed me.”
Her eyes filled.
“Even though he said it was a secret?”
“Especially then.”
Dante quietly pulled out the chair beside him.
“Michael, sit down.”
Michael looked furious.
“You can't order me around.”
Dante didn't move.
“I'm asking you to stop frightening your daughter.”
Michael remained standing.
Then, slowly, he sat.
I looked toward Claire.
“Did you write this?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“Did you know Sophie was supposed to keep her address from me?”
Claire looked toward Michael.
“I knew we were taking a trip. I thought Lauren had agreed to temporary custody arrangements.”
I stared at her.
“You were helping teach my daughter to call you Mommy, and you never checked whether I'd agreed?”
Claire swallowed.
“I believed Michael.”
I nodded slowly.
“That's what makes this so frightening.”
She looked down.
“I'm beginning to understand.”
I wasn't sure she was.
Because believing a man you loved was one thing.
Ignoring the fear on a nine-year-old girl's face was another.
Dante turned toward Marian.
“Was this travel plan included in your program's paperwork?”
“No.”
“Did you approve an out-of-state relocation?”
“No.”
Marian looked at the ticket again.
“Harbor House doesn't authorize custody decisions or interstate moves.”
Michael rubbed his forehead.
“It's a weekend trip.”
Dante pointed toward the luggage tag.
“Then why hide the address from her mother?”
Michael said nothing.
I looked at Sophie's purple notebook.
She'd written several pages about the hearing.
But near the back was a drawing I'd overlooked.
Three stick figures stood beside a train.
A man.
A woman.
And a small girl.
Far away, a fourth figure stood outside a house.
The word Mommy was written above her.
I felt tears filling my eyes.
“Did you draw this?”
Sophie nodded.
“On Tuesday.”
I touched the tiny figure standing alone.
“Why did you put me over here?”
She looked embarrassed.
“Because Daddy said you'd be mad.”
“Mad?”
“Because we were leaving.”
I pulled her close.
“Sweetheart, I'd be sad if I couldn't see you. But I would never be mad at you for something an adult decided.”
She nodded against my shoulder.
Then whispered, “I didn't want to go.”
My heart broke.
I looked toward Michael.
“You heard her.”
He avoided my eyes.
“She doesn't understand the situation.”
Dante leaned forward.
“Michael, stop using her age as an excuse to ignore what she's saying.”
For several seconds, the only sound was the air-conditioning humming above us.
Then Claire spoke.
“I need to ask you something, Michael.”
He looked at her.
“What?”
“Were you planning to let Lauren speak to Sophie while we were in Wisconsin?”
He hesitated.
“Depending on what the court decided.”
Claire shook her head.
“That's not what you told me.”
Michael's expression changed.
“Claire—”
“You said Lauren would have regular contact.”
“She would have.”
“Then why did you write no contact permitted?”
He stared at her.
For the first time, Claire looked frightened of the man she'd trusted.
Not because he'd raised his hand.
He hadn't.
But because she was finally recognizing how easily he could change a story while looking someone directly in the eyes.
Dante glanced toward Marco.
“Has Lauren been able to arrange independent legal advice?”
Marco nodded.
“She has an appointment with a family-law attorney first thing tomorrow. We helped her obtain the public court information and preserve copies of the relevant papers.”
I was grateful.
But I still felt terrified.
Tomorrow, someone who didn't know me would hear accusations about my parenting.
They'd see Michael's notebook.
They'd see the building records.
They might see my mother described as unreliable.
And they'd have to decide what should happen to Sophie while the case continued.
Dante seemed to read my expression.
“Lauren, you don't need to prove you're a perfect mother.”
I looked up.
“You need to tell the truth and give your attorney what supports it.”
I swallowed.
“What if it isn't enough?”
He didn't pretend to know.
“Then you keep advocating for your daughter through the proper process.”
His answer wasn't comforting in the way a promise of victory would have been.
But it was honest.
And I needed honesty more than anything.
Michael suddenly stood.
“This is over. Sophie, get your bag.”
She froze.
I held her hand.
“Michael, she doesn't want to leave with you.”
“She's my daughter.”
“And mine.”
His face darkened.
“You have no idea what you're doing.”
I looked at him.
“Neither did I when I married you.”
That hurt him.
I saw it.
For a moment, the confident man I'd known disappeared.
He looked exhausted.
Angry.
And afraid.
Then he said something I hadn't expected.
“I was trying to keep our family from falling apart.”
I stared at him.
“By taking Sophie away?”
He looked toward Claire.
“By making sure someone responsible was caring for her.”
My eyes filled.
“Michael, I was caring for her.”
He looked away.
Dante spoke quietly.
“Then perhaps you should explain why you started documenting Lauren's mistakes eight months before asking for a divorce.”
Michael stopped.
His expression changed.
I stared at him.
Eight months.
Exactly when the notebooks began.
Exactly when our arguments became unbearable.
Exactly when he'd taken over my mother's rental accounts.
I looked toward Marian.
“When did Michael first approach Harbor House?”
She hesitated.
Then checked her notes.
“His first inquiry was in September.”
My stomach dropped.
September.
Eight months earlier.
Long before he told me he wanted to separate.
I turned toward my husband.
“You didn't start preparing for a divorce three weeks ago.”
He said nothing.
“You started preparing to take Sophie eight months ago.”
Michael looked at the table.
Then whispered, “I knew you were going to leave me.”
I stared at him.
“I wasn't planning to leave you.”
He slowly raised his eyes.
“You would have been.”
May you like
Then he said something that made Claire step away from him.
“Because once you found out what I'd done with your mother's money, you were never going to forgive me.”
