My husband sat in court in a three-thousand-dollar suit beside the “Butcher of Broadway,” mocking me like I was already broken because he’d frozen my accounts, cut off my cards, and left me alone long enough to lose by default… but just as the judge exhaled, lifted the gavel, and looked ready to hand him everything, the courtroom doors flew open

“Be seated,” he commanded while opening the file in front of him with the care of a man handling radioactive material. He looked down at the documents for case number twenty-four and noted that the matter involved the division of assets and temporary support for the Reeves family.

“Mr. Higgins,” the judge said, and Wesley rose smoothly to acknowledge the court with a polite nod. Then the judge turned his gaze toward me, and I stood up so quickly that I almost knocked the heavy chair over.

“Mrs. Reeves,” the judge said with a note of caution in his voice, “I see you are unaccompanied today, so I must ask if you are expecting counsel.” I swallowed the sand that seemed to line my throat and told him that she should be here any minute.

Hudson let out a little noise that sounded like a mixture of a laugh and a cough, which he tried to cover with one manicured hand. Judge Miller’s eyes snapped toward him immediately and asked if there was something amusing about the proceedings.