Chapter 3 - I GET A LAWYER
Police did not arrest me that night.
They could have.
I had admitted striking Judith and shaving part of her hair.
No serious injury.
Complicated provocation.
Child emergency still unfolding.
They released me pending charging review.
My friend Marissa drove Meadow and me to her apartment because I refused to return to Judith’s house and our townhouse was still under repair.
At 8:04 the next morning, I called an attorney.
Rebecca Sloan.
Forty-five.
Family and criminal law referrals under one roof.
She listened.
Then:
“You need separate counsel for your assault exposure.”
“I know.”
“I’ll coordinate.”
“Am I going to lose Meadow?”
“Not because you’re afraid enough to ask.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No.”
She paused.
“You created a problem.”
“I know.”
“The retaliation after Meadow was safe is legally different from intervening to stop Judith.”
“I know.”
“But Dustin’s participation changes the custody picture substantially.”
I swallowed.
“What about the video?”
“Police are preserving it.”
“What does Meadow mean by ‘proof’?”
“That is what we need to discover.”
Then Rebecca asked:
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-three.”
“How old is Dustin?”
“Thirty-five.”
She said nothing.
I hated what the silence implied.
“We met when I was eighteen.”
“And Meadow?”
“I got pregnant six months later.”
“Married?”
“When she was ten months old.”
“Family money?”
That question seemed strange.
“Dustin’s father had money.”
“Had?”
“He died two years ago.”
“Estate?”
“I don’t know much.”
“Trust?”
I hesitated.
“Yes.”
“What kind?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
Rebecca’s silence returned.
“Avery, do you sign annual trust documents for Meadow?”
“No.”
“Does Dustin?”
“I think so.”
“Does Judith receive money for caring for Meadow?”
May you like
“I don’t know.”
That was the first question that made the hair on my arms rise.
