I drank the water and looked again at the papers on the counter.
Even from where I stood, I knew what was on them. Higher number. Careful language. Hidden cost.
The kind of move Brad liked best.
Something that looked fair until you read it properly.
I picked up the papers, folded them once, and dropped them into the recycling bin under the sink.
When I straightened, Brad was standing at the living room entrance.
He did not step into the kitchen.
He looked at the bin, then at me.
Still no words.
Good.
Cole’s voice came back to me from the courthouse corridor. Clear and even. If you have anything to say, it goes through counsel. Brad had understood it then. He still understood it now.
I held his gaze for a second, then turned away and took a pan from the cabinet.
He stood there a
