Last week, my attorney warned that the judge was leaning towards a more restrictive custody arrangement.
Now, the uncertainty of what she’s discovered about me—or how it might influence her judgment—weighs in the back of my mind.
Whatever is coming next isn’t just about me anymore.
It’s about whether I’ll keep the life I’ve fought so hard to build for my son.
The rain that night felt like a cleansing, a moment to wash away the stress.
But the stress remains, trapped beneath the surface, unyielding.
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