The Price of Hidden Assets and the Truth That Reopened My Divorce
I wanted to protect them from the storm that was coming.
If Daniel’s family fell apart, the fallout would hit them too.
I went back to the kitchen and closed my laptop.
I turned off the lights.
The house was dark, lit only by the distant sweep of the coastal lighthouse.
I walked up the stairs to my bedroom.
I lay down on the bed, still dressed in my clothes.
I slept fitfully, dreaming of numbers and signatures sliding off pages into the ocean.
The next morning, the sun rose gray and cold over the water.
I made breakfast for the children.
They ate their cereal while talking about building a fort on the beach.
“Can we go after school?” Lily asked, looking up at me.
“Of course,” I said, forcing a smile.
“We’ll find some big pieces of driftwood.”
The school bus arrived at eight o’clock.
I watched them walk down the gravel driveway, their backpacks bouncing.
Once the bus disappeared around the bend, the silence returned.
I stood on the porch, holding a mug of warm coffee.
The air tasted like salt.