Despite the ultimate betrayal by my entire family, I maintained a standard parenting schedule for Ava and Ben because they deserved a relationship with their father that was separate from his treatment of me. My relationship with my parents remained profoundly broken. My father quietly returned his spare key by mail in a plain envelope, and my mother sent a message claiming she never intended for me to lose my children. I struggled to reply but eventually told her that her willingness to sign a document accusing me of abandonment meant I needed substantial time away from them. Life slowly began to find a new normal within our home. One evening, Ben brought me his favorite stuffed rabbit, a toy he had taken to court in my briefcase for bravery, asking me to fix its torn ear. Using my mother’s old sewing kit, I carefully repaired the toy, and even though my stitches were clumsy, Ben hugged it tightly and told me it was perfect. Later that week, I made a promise to attend Ava’s school concert, and when she stepped onto the stage looking for me, I was already sitting in the front row.
