At nine-fifteen Catherine received a call from Richard's attorney. Daniel heard only the door open and close and the uneven rhythm of footsteps moving through the hallway while he worked. A few minutes later another car pulled into the driveway, not Richard's Mercedes but a silver sedan carrying an envelope from a courier. Catherine signed for it and disappeared inside without looking toward the yard.
The envelope contained a formal notice of a proposed custody modification and documents challenging her current parenting schedule. The accusations did not say Catherine was neglectful in direct terms; they suggested that the professional uncertainty surrounding her company could interfere with regular caregiving. There was also a proposed arrangement for the house that treated it as an asset to be divided rather than a place where Lily had grown up.
Catherine read the papers standing at her kitchen counter. The language was careful enough to sound neutral and pointed enough to hurt. She thought about the year Richard had moved out, the number of school mornings she had managed while launching a major software platform, and the board meeting where investors had praised her for being relentlessly available. Now a different group of powerful people appeared ready to use that relentless availability as an argument against her.
She called her lawyer, received advice to answer in writing, and tried not to cry while Lily's footsteps moved upstairs. When she finally went outside, she saw Daniel kneeling at the gate with the old hinge in his hands and felt an unreasonable surge of resentment. Here was a man who could solve a visible problem, announce the price, and point to the evidence of his work at the end of the day. Her own problems were invisible until someone chose to weaponize them.
Daniel looked up and noticed her face. "Everything all right?" he asked. She said it was fine with a tone that told him not to believe her. He finished aligning the hinge, rose, and offered to leave the invoice with her assistant instead of interrupting. Catherine asked whether he had spoken to Lily again about her father.
"She mentioned a school project," Daniel said. "And asked when Noah was coming back." Catherine's eyes narrowed. "That's not what I asked." He explained that Lily had also spoken about wanting her father to listen, but he had not offered to mediate their family. Catherine looked toward the house, where the girl had appeared at the kitchen window, and then back at him.
"You seem very comfortable giving everyone advice," Catherine said. Daniel told her he only answered questions when they were asked and that she could always tell him a subject was private. The words were respectful, but in her wounded state they sounded like a reminder that she had willingly confided in him. Catherine looked at his boots, the toolbox, the work gloves, and the fence, and a defensive thought emerged that she knew was unfair.