Chapter 6

The trial was set for October.

Three months away.

I kept teaching. My kids didn't know what was happening. They just knew Miss Claire sometimes looked tired.

They drew me pictures. Rainbows. Hearts. A house with a big tree.

I taped them to my apartment wall.

My best friend, Maya, moved in with me. She said she needed a place to stay while her apartment was renovated. I knew she was lying. She was there so I wouldn't be alone.

We drank cheap wine and watched bad TV.

For the first time in years, I laughed.

Nolan filed a counter-suit.

He claimed I had abandoned the marriage. He claimed I was emotionally unstable. He claimed the house was marital property because we had "shared" it for five years.

Delia crushed the motion in a single hearing.

"The house was her separate property before, during, and after the marriage. The defendant encumbered it fraudulently. This counter-suit is frivolous."

The judge agreed.

Nolan was ordered to pay my attorney fees.

He was running out of money.

The condo was foreclosed on. The truck was repossessed. The Cayman account was frozen.

Lana Brooks got a job in Dallas. She didn't look back.

Nolan was living in a studio apartment above a garage.

He called me from a blocked number.

"Claire. Please. We can stop this. I'm sorry. I'll admit everything. Just make it stop."

His voice was small. Broken.

For a second, I almost felt sorry for him.

Then I remembered $1.94.

I remembered hand-washing his underwear.

I remembered my father's forged signature.

"No," I said. "You should have thought of that before you charged me rent on my own house."

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I hung up.

And I blocked the number.