Washer and dryer.
A nursery painted pale blue.
I studied the receipts like a forensic analyst.
Dates.
Amounts.
Vendors.
Each detail strengthened the case.
Kevin’s attorney attempted to argue that I had benefited from Kevin’s income and therefore had no grounds for complaint.
Olivia dismantled that claim by presenting my independent income history and contributions.
“You were funding the marriage,” she told me afterward in her office. “He was exploiting it.”
The word exploit did not sting.
It clarified.
The second major hearing focused on misconduct.
Sierra was subpoenaed.
She entered the courtroom wearing a cream sweater and holding a tissue.
When asked about the baby’s father, she hesitated.
“The timeline doesn’t align with the statements you previously made,” Olivia said evenly.
Sierra’s eyes darted toward Kevin.
“My sister always wanted a baby,” she said weakly. “I didn’t think it would matter.”
The courtroom murmured.
“It matters,” the judge said sharply.
Sierra began to cry.
“I loved him,” she said.
I felt no jealousy.
Only exhaustion.
Kevin took the stand next.
“Did you knowingly conceal a relationship with your sister-in-law?” Olivia asked.
He swallowed.
“It wasn’t planned.”
“Were you aware that joint funds were being used to support her pregnancy?”
He hesitated again.
“Yes.”
“Without informing your wife?”
“Yes.”
The word echoed.
My mother sobbed quietly behind him.
