Peter offered to take the kids to school, and I let him.
Something felt different about me since our previous conversation, like I needed to start doing things myself again.
“No, I would’ve fought—”
While Peter and the kids were gone, I went into the garage.
Most of my things were still in boxes from after my divorce from Sean. I hadn’t had the energy to go through them properly.
I didn’t even know what I was looking for at first. I just started opening boxes.
Clothes. Old toys. Small appliances.
Then I found the first thing that didn’t make sense.
A notice from Jonathan’s school. It was about a parent meeting I’d supposedly missed. But I’d never seen it before!
I kept going.
I just started opening boxes.
More papers.
- Bills in my name I didn’t recognize.
- Notes from teachers asking why I hadn’t responded.
- Printouts of emails I’d never received.
I sat back on the concrete floor, papers spread around me.
It wasn’t one big thing; it was dozens of small ones.
All of them added up to the same result.
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