Chapter 11: Mediation

I stared at the red circle around Morgan's face until the screen went dark.

Then I called him back.

"Nine. Is the kid done being yelled at?"

"He cried again. Happy crying. What's wrong?"

He heard it.

Six years of my voice at three in the morning, and he heard it right away.

I told him about the filing.

The photos.

The circle.

He didn't say anything for a while.

"Do you want me to stay away?" he said finally. "For the case. I can do that. I'll still be on the channel."

"No."

"Andie."

It was the first time he'd ever said my name instead of my number.

"I'm not letting Reece pick who comes to my house," I said. "He doesn't get to circle people."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay. Then I'm going to keep bringing soup."

The mediation was on a Tuesday in an office downtown, eighteen floors up, with a view of the rivers.

The mediator was a soft-spoken woman with a box of tissues placed exactly halfway down the table.

My lawyer sat on my left.

She was sixty-two, wore sneakers with her suit, and had read every page of Reece's filing twice.

Reece sat across from me with his lawyer.

He looked good.

Navy suit, fresh haircut, the watch I'd bought him for our fifth anniversary.

He smiled at me when I sat down, warm and a little sad.

It was his best smile.

I'd seen him use it on a donor's widow once at a gala.

"Andie," he said. "You look great. You look healthy."

"I'm not unstable, then?"

His lawyer cleared his throat.

Then she asked Reece to begin.

He folded his hands on the table.

"I want to start by saying I made a mistake on January fourteenth."

I waited.

"I was at a party. I'd had a few drinks."

"Kait's friends got carried away with the wedding bit, and I let it go too far."

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