She spent that first evening in the temporary house outside the city with the boys, eating tomato soup and grilled cheese because it was what they always wanted when tired. Adrian asked whether they were rich. Elias asked whether the company had robots. She answered only what children needed. Yes, we are safe. No, money doesn’t make people kind. No, the company doesn’t have robots in the kitchen. Yes, you still have school tomorrow. No, Dad is not allowed to take you anywhere without us knowing.
At bedtime Adrian climbed under her blanket instead of his own and pressed his cheek against her arm. Elias followed two minutes later, pretending he only needed to ask one question but staying after it was answered. She lay between them, listening to their breathing steady into sleep, and thought of all the women in all the rooms of the world who had been told custody belonged to the more powerful parent because power looked like furniture and title and expensive calm.
She did not sleep much.
The next weeks became war by paper.