“Can I change that?”
“You can petition.”
“How long?”
“That is the wrong first question.”
Claire almost smiled bitterly.
“Everyone keeps telling me I’m asking the wrong question.”
“Then consider the pattern.”
Susan continued.
“A court will care about the children’s best interests, your eighteen-month absence, your lack of contact, your current stability, and what reintroduction looks like.”
“I want joint custody eventually.”
“Maybe.”
Claire stiffened.
“Maybe?”
“You are not negotiating a car title. You are rebuilding a relationship with two children, one of whom does not remember you.”
Claire looked away.
Susan’s voice softened.
“If you make this about winning against Matthew, you will lose even if a judge gives you time.”
“What should I do?”
“Be boring.”
Claire looked back.
“What?”
“Reliable. Predictable. Boring.”
Susan ticked points off with her fingers.
“Get housing. Get stable employment. Attend every scheduled visit. Do not surprise the children. Do not make promises you can’t control. Do not tell them Dad kept you away. Do not interrogate them about his house. Do not use gifts as a substitute for consistency.”
Claire nodded.
“And if Matthew is reasonable, work with him instead of forcing every step through court.”
“What if he isn’t reasonable?”
“Then document it.”
Susan leaned forward.
“But based on what you’ve told me, he allowed the possibility of contact forty-eight hours after you appeared unannounced.”
Claire sat back.
“That’s reasonable.”
“Yes.”
The first meeting with child therapist Dr. Amelia Grant took place without the children.
Matthew and Claire sat at opposite ends of a sofa.
Amelia asked for the timeline.
Claire told it.
She did not say:
I had to leave.
She said:
I chose to leave.
Matthew noticed.
When Amelia asked Matthew what he wanted, he answered:
“For Sophie not to think her mother can disappear and reappear whenever she wants.”
Claire felt the sentence.
Amelia turned.
“What do you want, Claire?”
“A chance to prove that I won’t.”
“Those goals are not incompatible.”
The first visit was scheduled for the following Saturday.
Thirty minutes.
Sophie first.
Caleb only afterward if Amelia believed it appropriate.
Claire spent the week terrified.
She moved from the hotel into a month-to-month furnished apartment.
Not because she knew she would remain in Ohio permanently.
Because she wanted her actions to stop depending on certainty.
She transferred within her hotel company to a Columbus property.
Lower position.
Slightly less money.
She accepted.
Friday night, Claire bought gifts.
Then remembered Susan’s warning.
She returned most of them.
She kept one thing.
A small purple notebook for Sophie because Sophie used to love drawing.
Then Claire worried even that was manipulation.
She left it in the car.
Saturday morning, she sat in Amelia Grant’s waiting room with both hands locked together.
Matthew arrived with Sophie.
Claire heard their voices before she saw them.
Sophie walked around the corner.
Claire’s body forgot how to move.
Her daughter was taller.
That was the first thing.
Longer hair.
A gap where one front tooth was growing back.
Pink sneakers.
Denim jacket.
Sophie looked at Claire.
Stopped.
Matthew rested one hand lightly behind her shoulder.
Nobody spoke.
Claire wanted to run forward.
She stayed seated.
“Sophie,” Amelia said gently, “you know who this is?”
Sophie nodded.
Claire’s heart broke.
“Hi, sweetheart.”
Sophie looked at Matthew.
“Do I have to hug her?”
Claire looked down immediately.
Matthew answered:
“No.”
Sophie looked back.
Claire forced herself to smile.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
Sophie remained near the door.