A hot, ugly wave of fury washed over me first. She had abandoned our children—left a toddler and a kindergartener alone to starve—so she could go out drinking with some stranger who left her bleeding in a wrecked car. But right beneath that blinding rage was a darker, more complicated knot of horror. She hadn’t meant to disappear for days. She had been lying in a coma while her children slowly starved.
“Is she alive?” I asked, my voice entirely hollow.
“She is stable now. Multiple fractures and a severe concussion. She just regained consciousness a few hours ago.”
I turned away, scrubbing my hands brutally over my face. I walked down to the quiet end of the corridor and pulled out my phone. I dialed Avery Kline, my ruthless, brilliant family attorney.
“Avery. I need an emergency ex parte order for full custody,” I said the second she answered.
“Rowan? Slow down. What’s going on?”
“Delaney left the kids alone for days to go partying. She got in a wreck and ended up in a coma. Elsie is in the hospital on an IV. Micah thought his sister was dying. I want full custody, Avery. I want the locks changed. I want her stripped of every right she has right now.”
Avery’s voice shifted instantly to all-business. “Send me every medical record and the DCS intake file. I’ll have the motion on a judge’s desk by 8:00 AM.”
I hung up, feeling the metallic taste of vengeance in my mouth.
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