Five minutes after wrk signing the divorce papers, I walked out of the courthouse with nothing but my son.-lynk

Owen leaned closer to me.
“Are we in trouble?”

I knelt down in front of him, brushing a strand of hair from his face.

“No,” I said softly. “We’re not.”

Behind me, Grant’s voice rose again.

“No, I need access— I can’t just not access my own accounts!”

A pause.

Then—

“What do you mean ‘court order’?”

His words echoed.

Court order.

I stood back up slowly.