Original divorce petition?
I had never filed one.
Not until four months ago.
The boarding announcement sounded overhead.
Emily touched my arm.
“Mom?”
I stood.
“We’re going to London.”
And we did.
Eight hours later, the girls slept beneath airline blankets while dawn slowly spread across the clouds outside my window.
I did not sleep.
Instead, I opened every email connected to the divorce.
Every attachment.
Every message from my attorney, Rebecca Sloan.
Nothing.
At 5:13 London time, I wrote Rebecca.
Did anyone file or prepare divorce papers in my name before I hired you?
Her response arrived before we landed.
Call me when you can. There is something I assumed you already knew.
My heartbeat changed.
At Heathrow, the company driver met us holding a sign that read BENNETT FAMILY.
Not Whitmore.
Bennett.
Something about that almost made me cry.
Our temporary apartment overlooked a narrow street lined with brick buildings and small trees.
