The Price of Hidden Assets and the Truth That Reopened My Divorce
I laid him down on the faded floral sheets of the twin bed and covered him with a heavy blanket.
Lily sat at the edge of the bed, her eyes wide in the dim light.
“Is this where we live now, Mom?” she asked.
“For a little while, sweetie,” I said, kissing her forehead. “It’s safe here.”
She nodded slowly, her eyelids fluttering with exhaustion.
I closed their door halfway, leaving a sliver of yellow light from the hallway spilling across the floor.
I walked into the small kitchen and stood by the sink.
The linoleum was worn thin near the stove, showing the dark wood underneath.
I set my laptop bag on the laminate counter and stared at my phone.
A new message appeared from Daniel.
“I know where you took them,” the text read.
“You have twenty-four hours to bring my children back, or I will make sure you have nothing left.”
My fingers shook as I forwarded the screenshot to Robert Hayes.
I needed to believe my attorney could keep us safe, but the distance between this coast and the city felt dangerously thin.