“Preparation is not instability,” she said. “A woman gathering evidence of her husband’s deception while pregnant is not evidence of mental illness. It is evidence she understood she would need proof before anyone took her seriously.”
The judge denied the psychological-evaluation request.
Just like that.
Denied.
She ordered temporary access restored to the joint accounts. Temporary financial relief. Provisional custody protection in my favor until final hearing.
I didn’t cry in the courtroom.
I waited until I got outside and the December air hit my face like something honest.
Roz was parked at the curb in her SUV, illegally, of course. She leaned over and shoved the passenger door open before I even reached it.
“Well?”
“We won this round.”
“Excellent,” she said. “I brought emergency donuts.”
There was a pink box on the seat between us. I laughed, this time for real, and the sound startled me. It felt rusty.
I bit into a sprinkle donut and sugar hit my tongue so suddenly it almost hurt. For ten minutes, driving back toward Westport, I let myself believe maybe the worst of it had already passed.
Then, two days later, Tobias called me directly.
His voice was low and tight.