A school pickup disagreement.
A missed call.
A birthday message.
A request to spend Mother’s Day with me.
Each one had been recorded as though affection were misconduct.
Beside several entries, my husband had written phrases like “privilege reduction,” “financial leverage,” and “future documentation.”
That was when I understood what the detective had meant.
The violence in the hallway had not created the system.
It had exposed it.
For more than a year, my husband had been building a private record designed to turn our children’s attachment to me into proof that I was supposedly interfering with his custody time.
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