Chapter 4

My attorney, Lauren Beckett, reviewed the security footage, Sadie's medical records, and our text messages.

When she finished, she took off her glasses, her expression grave.

"Ms. Marlowe, this is strong evidence of serious parental neglect. Given the circumstances, a court could even view it as abandonment.

"If you file for divorce and seek sole custody, you have a very strong case."

I didn't hesitate. "I want sole custody of Sadie. He doesn't deserve to be her father."

Lauren nodded and drew up a proposed divorce settlement on the spot.

I signed it.

The moment I put pen to paper, I felt strangely relieved.

When I got home, Gavin wasn't there.

I checked his social media. His latest post had gone up half an hour earlier.

The location tag showed an upscale restaurant. The photo showed two glasses of red wine clinking together.

The caption read, "A little happiness in the middle of a busy life."

The first comment was from Celeste.

Celeste: [Thank you, Mr. Halstead. The steak was amazing tonight. Millie says she wants to come back next time.]

She'd even added a heart emoji.

I turned my phone face down on the table.

I gave Sadie a bath, careful to keep the bandage on her hand dry.

After I got her to sleep, I started packing.

Her clothes, shoes, toys, and important documents. I folded everything carefully and packed it into a suitcase.

Halfway through, I found a crumpled drawing.

It was a family portrait Sadie had drawn.

Three people stood hand in hand, with Sadie in the middle. Beside them, in crooked little letters, she'd written, "Mommy, Daddy, and Me."

Daddy's face had been scribbled out.

She'd gone over it again and again with a black crayon.

I stared at that dark patch for a long time, my eyes stinging.

Then I folded the drawing and tucked it into the bottom of the suitcase.

At eleven, I heard the front door open.

Gavin walked in smelling of alcohol, with the heavy sweetness of a woman's perfume clinging to his clothes.

He stopped when he saw the open suitcase in the living room.

"What? Another business trip?"

"Divorce."

He froze, as if he hadn't heard me right.

"What?"

"The papers are on the coffee table. Take a look."

He stared at me for five seconds.

Then he actually laughed, as if the whole thing were absurd.

"Tessa, what are you doing? You're doing this over what happened the other day? I already told you it was a misunderstanding. You're really taking it this far?"

"You think that was the only time?"

I stood and looked him straight in the eye.

"You left her waiting in a downpour for forty minutes, then sent a stranger to pick her up.

"You disappeared for three days and left her alone to live on canned soup and bread, fall off the couch and hurt her face, burn her hand, and deal with a fever over 102 degrees by herself.

"You gave Celeste's daughter your time, your protection, and all the love you should have been giving your own child.

"You're not incapable of being a good father, Gavin. You just don't want to be Sadie's father."

The smile vanished from his face.

"Enough." His voice turned cold. "Sadie is my daughter. How could I not care about her? I just want her to toughen up. She doesn't need to be babied over every little thing. You're blowing this way out of proportion.

"And you're divorcing me over a few security clips? You really think a judge is going to give you sole custody because of that?"

I looked at him and spoke slowly.

"Gavin, do you know what counts as child abandonment?"

His expression shifted.

"I'm giving you three days. Sign the papers, walk away with nothing, and give up custody.

"If you don't, I'll see you in court. The security footage, Sadie's medical records, Ms. Keaton's testimony, your messages with Celeste - all of it will come out.

"And when it does, you can decide for yourself whether your company, your business partners, and your public reputation can survive it."

I turned and went into the bedroom, locking the door behind me.

Gavin stood in the living room for a long time. He didn't knock. He didn't say a word.

At two in the morning, my phone lit up.

A text from Celeste.

Celeste: [Tessa, I just heard you and Mr. Halstead had a disagreement. Is there some kind of misunderstanding? We're really just friends. Please don't read too much into it.]

Celeste: [Maybe we could meet and talk sometime? Millie has always thought of Sadie as a big sister. I really don't want whatever is going on between the adults to affect the girls.]

I stared at the messages and suddenly laughed.

2:03 a.m.

What kind of "friend" found out in the middle of the night, almost immediately, that I wanted a divorce?

Who had told her?

The answer was obvious.

I didn't reply.

Instead, I opened Gavin's social media and found the post he'd made from the resort three days earlier.

I took a screenshot.

In the photo, Celeste leaned against the railing of an oceanfront balcony, smiling, while Millie ran along the beach below.

The scene looked warm and intimate, like a family of three on vacation.

At that very moment, Gavin's own daughter had been curled up alone on a cold floor with a high fever.

I saved the screenshot.

Then I put my phone down and closed my eyes.

I'd leave at dawn.

At six the next morning, I pulled my suitcase behind me and carefully lifted Sadie, still asleep, into my arms.

The divorce papers were still spread across the coffee table.

Untouched.

Gavin wasn't there.

Maybe he'd gone back to Celeste.

Maybe he'd been drinking in some hotel until dawn.

I didn't care anymore.

As I stepped out of the apartment, Sadie stirred awake in my arms.

"Mommy... where are we going?"

"To a new home."

"Will there be dinosaurs?"

"Yes. I'll get you enough to fill a whole wall."

She smiled and buried her face against my neck.

I carried her into the elevator.

Just as the doors were about to close, hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway.

It was Gavin.

His hair was messy, and his clothes were wrinkled, like he'd rushed back from somewhere.

"Tessa! Stop!"

The elevator doors slid shut.

My phone started vibrating nonstop.

One message.

Then another.

Then a third.

Gavin: [Where did you take Sadie? Are you out of your mind? Come back right now!]

Gavin: [I read the papers. Forget it. Sadie is my daughter. You're not taking her away from me.]

The third was a voice message. I didn't play it.

The elevator reached the lobby, and the doors opened to the morning sunlight.

Sadie rested her head on my shoulder.

"Mommy, was that Daddy yelling?"

"Yeah."

"Does Daddy not want us to go?"

I tightened my hold on her and kept walking.

"It's okay. Mommy gets to decide."

By the time we reached the entrance to the apartment complex, my phone rang again.

This time, it wasn't Gavin.

It was Celeste.

I glanced at the caller ID and gave a cold little smile before answering.

Her voice was soft and gentle, with an almost deliberate sweetness.

"Tessa, don't do anything rash. Mr. Halstead really does care about Sadie. He's just not very good at showing it..."

"Celeste."

I cut her off.

"You knew at two in the morning that I wanted a divorce. Now it's six, and somehow you already know I'm leaving with Sadie.

"Want to guess how a judge will view your relationship when they see all of this?"

The other end went silent.

I ended the call and turned off my phone.

The cab was already waiting outside.

I settled Sadie into her booster seat and buckled her in.

She hugged the LEGO dinosaur set we'd bought the day before and looked up at me seriously.

"Mommy, I don't ever have to stay home all by myself again, right?"

"That's right.

"Never again."

The cab pulled away, heading toward Bellridge International Airport.

In the rearview mirror, the building we'd lived in for three years grew smaller and smaller.

Sadie didn't look back.

Neither did I.