Page 5

“It’s dangerous to go home. Gerard is there,” Detective Ramirez said.

“What?” I exclaimed.

“Mrs Silver. The house is in both your names. Right now, he occupies it. I can’t throw him out because of what he’s done.”

“But Gerard beat me!”

“Yes, and we arrested and charged him. He made bail, Mrs Silver, and went straight home. My advice is to get a restraining order against him and find somewhere else. Have your lawyer deal with this,” he said.

“I can’t believe Gerard beats me, nearly kills me and puts me in here, but gets to live in luxury!” I complained. “Can’t you arrest Gerard for something so I can move in and change the locks?”

“I’d love to, but he’s already had the book thrown at him. Unless you’re aware of other crimes and have evidence?” Ramirez said.

Sadly, I shook my head, and Ramirez appeared sorry, but that wouldn’t get me anywhere.

“Where can I go?” I whined plaintively, and Ramirez looked even guiltier.

“There are women shelters,” he murmured.

“No. I’m not staying in Rapid City. I have some money. Is that asshole letting the kids have their things?” I asked.

“No. Mr Silver has made it clear you and the children are not welcome, and he will call the police on you for trespassing.”

“How can he when I own half that house!” I shrieked and winced.

“Lawyer,” Ramirez said.

Yeah. Whatever.

I had two hundred and thirty thousand dollars in my bank. You’d think that was plenty to survive on. Nope. The hospital gobbled up sixty thousand in the blink of an eye. Gerard would go for an expensive, dirty lawyer, and luckily Cartman was downright nasty and rarely lost a case. But that cost bucket loads.

I paid Cartman one hundred and fifty thousand up front, leaving me very little. But the kids needed everything: clothing, toys, shoes, and my list grew by the day. Twenty k wasn’t going to stretch far.

I hired the cheapest house I could find, a shithole in Spearfish, but what could I do? We needed a roof over our heads. Using a laptop a kind nurse provided, I visited a site where they sold nearly new clothes cheaply and outfitted the children. The nurse let me have the stuff sent to her house, and then I searched for cheap but decent second-hand furniture.

Everything was falling apart, and Cartman told me Gerard was trying to hide assets. Cartman had already attended court and filed the financial documents to stop Gerard. The judge slapped Gerard with an order. Cartman said it was fortunate that I could prove each asset three times over because Gerard had pleaded that I’d made mistakes. However, Cartman, again, shut that down with proof.

Now Gerard’s lawyer was stonewalling mine under mountains of paperwork, and Cartman had reciprocated. It had been ten days, and we were already embroiled in a ‘War of the Roses divorce.’

Lyle had brought the kids to visit, which was generous of him. They’d been subdued, and I saw the fear in Cassian’s gaze. I’d no words to comfort them over what their dad was doing. Poet was five; she’d never understand. Zion was six and obviously too young, but Cassian was fourteen.

The anger and hate in Cassian’s eyes spoke only too well that he understood.

“I found you,” he said when Lyle took Poet and Zion to get a drink.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Why? Why the fuck are you sorry, Mom? That bastard should be. And Aunt Judy. Fuckin’ whore,” Cassian spat.

I winced.

Judy hadn’t had kids, so they’d grown up close to her, calling her aunt. It was clear that Cassian had cut ties. He stared at my face.

“How many other times, Mom?”

“Doesn’t matter,” I murmured, holding his hand.

“Doesn’t it? Do you expect me to accept that?”