Divorce Papers From His Three‑Year‑Old Daughter

Synopsis

Richard Dalton was in a video conference discussing a billion-dollar real estate deal. He said, "We need to ensure the reserve price for the Serisport plot stays below—" "Mr. Dalton." Kolter, his assistant, knocked and entered, looking uneasy. "There's a delivery for you." Richard frowned. "Put it on the table." "Uh..." Kolter hesitated. "The courier says it requires a personal signature, and it's COD." Richard glanced at Kolter, surprised. Kolter had worked with him for five years and never interrupted during such critical moments. He signaled to pause the meeting, took the delivery slip, and skimmed it. The sender was Lilibeth Dalton. He hadn't seen that name in three years. Three years ago, he'd gotten married. His wife, Emily Sullivan, was pregnant. He'd been absorbed in taking over the family business. Emily attended appointments, delivered, and did postpartum recovery alone. By the time he realized it, she had moved out, leaving only a signed divorce agreement and a letter behind. The letter read, "Richard, we're not meant for each other. The child stays with me, and the house is yours. Take care." "Place it here," Richard said calmly. Kolter set the small package on the desk and exited. Richard examined the box. It was palm-sized, wrapped in pink paper, and covered with cartoon stickers. He tore off the paper and opened it. Inside lay a divorce agreement. It wasn't the one from three years ago. That one was full of legalese, neat and tidy. This document was also printed, but its layout was messy, with cropped margins and inconsistent font sizes, as if someone had hastily edited a template downloaded online. The key detail was that the respondent's signature line already bore a name: Lilibeth Dalton (age three and a half). Three years had passed. He assumed Emily and Lilibeth had relocated to another city, perhaps another country. He didn't expect them to still be here in Serisport. Richard picked up the clumsily crafted agreement and read it once more. On the final line, written in pink highlighter, was a note: Daddy, if you don't sign, I'll match Mom up with our neighbor Charlie. Charlie cooks and brings her flowers. He's better than you.