I felt the air leave my lungs. I leaned forward in my chair.
Vanessa laughed. Caleb lifted his glass.
“Don’t call it bribery,” he said. “Call it stability.”
The image shifted slightly, a faint crackling sound, as if Harper had barely moved the device on whatever shelf she had placed it. My daughter had been there. She had been in the room, or just outside it, close enough to hear, close enough to record. She had listened to her father describe how to coach her into undermining me, and she had not cried, had not confronted him, had not come to me. She had saved the evidence. Silently. Alone. At ten years old.
The video continued. Caleb put his glass down and lowered his voice.
“With full custody, the house is easier to keep, and I don’t have to divide the assets the way she thinks. Besides, with her emotional instability, the judge won’t give her anything close to equal time.”
