Chapter 12: Until Three

Dean filed for custody on the Monday after the gala.

By Wednesday a judge had signed a temporary order.

By Saturday I was standing in the lobby of the Montgomery County courthouse with my daughter in my arms.

The order gave Dean two hours every Saturday, unsupervised, until the hearing.

My lawyer had said it was standard.

A judge sees a father with no record and a mother who has been called every name online, she said.

She told me not to break it.

I did not intend to.

Rafe stood by the metal detector with the nanny, forty feet away.

I had asked him to stay out of it.

Dean came in through the revolving door at ten to one.

He wore his funeral suit.

Phyllis was on his arm in her good coat, holding a quilted diaper bag I had never seen.

He had a new lawyer beside him, a young man with an expensive haircut who carried a leather tote.

"Claire," Dean said.

"Dean."

"I want it on the record that I'm doing this in good faith."

"You can say that to the judge."

"I will." He held out his arms. "Give me my daughter."

I did not move.

Hazel was awake, with her fist in her mouth and her dark eyes on his face.

I kissed the top of her head. I breathed in once.

Then I put her in his arms.

"She eats at one-thirty," I said. "Four ounces. She burps on the left shoulder."

Keep reading free with an account. Start Desperate Housewife? No, I'm Billion-Dollar Revenge from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.