Friday came too fast and not fast enough, both at once, the strange elastic cruelty of time when you're dreading something you can't stop.
I packed Charlotte's overnight bag myself, folding each small outfit with hands I made myself keep steady, tucking Mr. Hoppy in on top the way I always did, though this time the gesture felt less like comfort and more like sending an ambassador into territory I no longer trusted.
"Why do I have to go?" Charlotte asked, watching me from the doorway, her small face already pinched with the particular wariness she'd developed over the past three weeks — the wariness of a child who had learned, far too young, to read the emotional weather of every room she entered.
"Because the judge said Daddy gets to see you this weekend," I said, keeping my voice as l
