Chapter 8: Papers Served!
395 Words
The papers came not with subtlety, but with spectacle.
Ismene had just finished delivering closing arguments in a high-profile fraud case when the process server intercepted her in the courthouse hallway. The man wore a neutral expression, but the envelope in his hand was anything but neutral.
“Ms. Sankare?” he asked, as though the entire city didn’t know her face.
She inclined her head. “Yes.”
“You’ve been served.”
He pressed the thick packet into her palm, then disappeared into the crowd before she could speak. The eyes of clerks, attorneys, even opposing counsel followed her, their gazes sharp and curious. Whispers sparked like fire across dry grass.
Her fingers tightened on the envelope. She wanted to shove it into her briefcase, to bury it among other files until it was nothing but paper. But the truth was heavier than the envelope itself: this was no longer whispered rumor, no longer personal suspicion.
This was war, declared in black and white.
She walked briskly down the hallway, every instinct screaming to project control. But inside, her pulse raced. She ducked into her office, locked the door, and finally allowed herself to tear it open.
Morgan v. Sankare.
Petition for dissolution of marriage. Filed in Minnesota. Request for spousal support. Division of assets.
Her eyes scanned the language, every line a calculated strike. Jared had moved quickly, assembling a team of American attorneys with a reputation for ruthless efficiency. They had listed properties, accounts, even her professional assets in Melbourne. He wasn’t just ending their marriage—he was trying to dismantle her.
Her phone buzzed. Amina.
“You’ve seen it?”
“Yes.”
“It’s aggressive.”
“It’s war,” Ismene replied flatly.
For a moment, silence hummed on the line. Then Amina’s voice sharpened. “So what’s your move?”
Ismene closed her eyes. She saw Jared’s face, smug across a courtroom. She saw her own reputation fraying, her life being dissected in legal documents. And then she saw herself at the counsel’s table, standing, objecting, cross-examining.
“I’ll respond,” she said. “On my terms. In Melbourne first. He wants to drag this across borders? Let him try. But I won’t be cornered.”
The official start of the battle had been delivered into her hands. And she would not be the one to surrender.
- Writer
