Three Baby Cribs and a Missing Set of Car Keys
Evelyn Vance sat at the dark wood dining table, her briefcase open on the chair beside her. She took out a thick blue folder and laid it precisely parallel to the edge of the table.
“I have drafted the temporary custody agreement,” Evelyn said, her voice clear and level. She placed her silver pen directly next to the paper, aligning the clip with the margin.
“Is it binding if he refuses to sign it on Friday?” I asked, sitting opposite her.
“It establishes your residency here,” Evelyn said. “And it records the fact that he left the children without financial support. The court looks closely at those details.”
Martha came down the stairs, carrying a tray with two glasses of iced tea. She set them on the table and sat in the corner chair, her eyes fixed on the blue folder.
“What happens if he goes to the old house first?” Martha asked.
“He will,” I said. “His friends are dropping him off there at four o’clock.”
Evelyn aligned her pen with the edge of the paper again. “The separation papers must be served. If you want to present them yourself, you need someone there with you.”
