At my daughter’s funeral, her husband pointed at their two little girls and announced that foster care could raise them because he deserved a fresh start with his new fiancée. Then the older child opened one of the suitcases he had packed—and handed me the care binder her mother had prepared before she died.

The temporary custody order was granted at 2:15 PM that afternoon.

Judge Arlene Vance (no relation to Derek) signed the emergency decree in chambers after reviewing Ms. Jenkins’ affidavit and the contents of Molly’s blue binder.

The order gave me full legal and physical custody of Nora and Sadie pending a formal hearing set for thirty days later. It also issued a temporary restraining order barring Derek from coming within five hundred feet of my home, my workplace, or Nora’s elementary school.

When we drove back to my house in Westerville, the sun was beginning to dip behind the autumn trees, casting long golden shadows across the driveway.

As I pulled my sedan into the garage, I saw a sleek, black BMW parked on the street directly across from my house.

The driver’s side window rolled down.

It was Derek.

He wasn't wearing his suit anymore. He wore a designer leather jacket and sunglasses, despite the dimming light. He stepped out of the car, slamming the door, and began walking across the lawn toward my driveway.

"Stay in the car, girls," I told Nora and Sadie, locking the doors from the driver's seat.

Richard got out of the passenger side immediately. I unbuckled my seatbelt and stepped out onto the concrete, holding my phone in my hand.

"You're breaching a court order, Derek," I said loudly before he reached the edge of the grass.

Derek stopped, his face contorted in anger. "What court order? My lawyer called me an hour ago! You went to Children Services behind my back!"

"You called them first, Derek!" Richard barked, stepping between Derek and the car. "You called the hotline on Sunday! Did you forget that part?"

"That was a mistake!" Derek yelled, his hands gestures wild. "I was grief-stricken! I was out of my mind with panic! Any court will see that I'm a grieving widower who made a temporary error in judgment!"

"A temporary error that involved change-of-beneficiary forms six weeks ago?" I asked, pulling my phone up and pressing the screen. "I have the temporary custody order right here, Derek. Signed by Judge Vance. You have five seconds to get back in your car before I press 'Call' on 911."

Derek looked at me, then at Richard, and finally at the darkened windows of my sedan where his two little girls were sitting in the backseat.

"You think you're saving them, Evelyn?" he sneered, his tone dropping into something foul and malicious. "You're forty-three years old! You work a dead-end payroll job! You can't afford to raise two kids, put them through college, pay for therapy, and take care of yourself! You're going to bankrupt yourself trying to spite me!"

"I would go bankrupt ten times over before I let you turn my daughter's children into collateral damage for your midlife crisis," I said, my voice ice-cold.

"They're my daughters!" he screamed, his voice carrying down the quiet suburban street, causing a neighbor across the road to step out onto his porch. "And that life insurance money is mine! Molly was my wife!"

"That life insurance money belonged to the trust Molly created for Nora and Sadie," I replied. "And my lawyer will be filing a motion in Probate Court tomorrow morning to freeze every cent of those funds until a judge determines whether you committed fraud while she was dying."

Derek froze. The arrogance in his posture withered instantly.

He hadn't considered Probate Court. He thought this was just a custody battle—a simple disagreement between a father and a grandmother. He hadn't realized that by trying to take the money and dump the kids, he had exposed himself to civil and potentially criminal fraud charges.

"You're a miserable, spiteful woman, Evelyn," he spat out, stepping backward toward his BMW.

"And you are a coward, Derek," I said. "Get off my property."

He got back into his car, gunned the engine, and tore down the street, the tires screeching against the asphalt as he rounded the corner.

I took a deep breath, feeling my knees shake slightly under my coat.

Richard walked over and put his arm around my shoulders. "You did good, Evie. You did really good."

I looked at the backseat of my car. Nora was looking out the window, her tiny hand pressed against the glass.

I walked over, opened the door, and reached inside to unbuckle them.