Chapter 1
1
I went to the church to light a memorial candle for my daughter, only to run into Ethan’s mother on the steps.
She twisted the hem of her shirt, hesitating before she spoke. "Claire... Ethan is back. He wants to see his child."
I didn't say a single word. I just walked away.
That afternoon, my lawyer called.
Ethan was suing me for custody.
On the day of the hearing, he stood in the courtroom and fiercely demanded I give his daughter back.
The judge looked at me. I stood up slowly, my voice dead calm.
"Ethan, five years ago, at the exact moment your daughter died, your phone was turned off. You were on a romantic vacation with your mistress."
When I laid my daughter’s death certificate on the table, the entire courtroom went dead silent.
It was the anniversary of her death, and like every year, I went to the church.
"Mommy's here, Lily."
My voice was a whisper. "I brought your favorite strawberry shortcake this year. Make sure you eat it."
I paused, a faint smile touching my lips.
"Your teeth won't hurt up there. You can eat as much as you want."
There was no answer. Just the soft, flickering sound of the candle flame.
Hearing the priest's footsteps approaching from the aisle, I wiped a stray tear from the corner of my eye and stood up.
"The usual, Claire? Renewing the candle for another year?"
"Yes, another year." I looked at him earnestly. "Thank you."
After he stepped away, I took one last look at the memorial votive candle and turned to leave.
Just as I reached the church doors, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
An unknown number.
I answered it, and a stern male voice came through the speaker.
"Is this Claire Bennett?"
"Speaking."
"I'm calling from the family law firm representing your ex-husband, Ethan. Consider this formal notice."
"He has filed a petition in King County Superior Court seeking full custody of his daughter, Lily."
"The formal petition and notice of hearing will be served to you shortly. Once you receive the documents, you may have your family attorney file a response and represent you in court."
The voice on the other end kept droning on about the grounds for the petition.
"The mother exhibits severe mental instability."
"Inadequate financial means to provide a stable environment for the child."
...
I didn't absorb a single word of it.
I just lifted my head, looking back into the nave at that flickering memorial candle. The flame danced in the draft, but it didn't go out.
"Ms. Bennett? Are you listening?"
"I am."
When I spoke, my voice was so steady it surprised even me.
"Please pass a message to Ethan."
I paused, enunciating every single syllable.
"He will never, ever get custody of Lily."
Silence fell over the line.
After a long moment, the lawyer replied dryly, "...I will relay the message."
The call ended.
I slipped the phone back into my pocket and glanced at the candle one last time.
On the brass plaque beneath it, the space for the "Father's Name" was still blank. That glaring emptiness gleamed with a cold, metallic light in the fireglow.
I turned and walked out of the church.
On the drive back to Seattle, I pulled over by the Elliott Bay waterfront.
The winter shoreline was completely deserted.
Leaning against the car door, I lit a cigarette.
The lawyer's words played on a loop in my head.
Custody petition.
Mental instability.
Inadequate financial means.
...