Chapter 10: What Derek Did Next
The good news lasted four days.
Ryan had moved Mia and Lily back to a rented house — he couldn't take them back to the family home yet, not while the investigation into Sandra's conduct was ongoing and not while Derek's people might still be watching.
The rental was small and plain and the garden was mostly concrete, but Mia had found a crack in the paving where a dandelion was growing and had declared it the best garden she had ever seen.
Ryan had bought her a packet of wildflower seeds the next day.
On the fourth day, Tom called.
"Derek's team has filed a formal complaint against Sandra with social services," he said.
"They're arguing that her concealment of the child constitutes neglect and endangerment, and they're using it to suggest that anyone connected to Sandra — including you — represents an unsafe environment for Mia."
Ryan sat down.
"They're using Sandra's mistakes to come after me."
"Yes.
It's a calculated move.
They know the complaint won't succeed on its merits, but it creates a paper trail and delays the welfare report." Tom paused.
"There's something else.
Joanna — Claire's former colleague — she called me this morning.
She's willing to give a statement."
Ryan straightened.
"What does she know?"
"More than we hoped.
She says Claire confided in her extensively during the last year of her relationship with Derek.
She has text messages Claire sent her at the time.
She kept them." Another pause.
"Ryan, the messages are detailed.
They describe a pattern of behavior that goes well beyond what Claire wrote in the letter.
If Joanna's statement and those messages are admitted, Derek's claim to be a fit parent becomes very difficult to sustain."
Ryan exhaled slowly.
"When can you take her statement?"
"Tomorrow morning.
I wanted you to know before then." Tom's voice shifted slightly.
"There's a third thing.
I didn't want to tell you this over the phone, but I think you need to know before you hear it another way."
Ryan waited.
"Derek's barrister approached my office this afternoon.
Informally.
Off the record." Tom chose his words carefully.
"He indicated that Derek is prepared to withdraw his paternity claim entirely — to walk away from the case — in exchange for a financial settlement."
The line was quiet for a moment.
"He wants to be paid to leave his daughter alone," Ryan said.
"That is what is being proposed, yes."
Ryan stood up and walked to the kitchen window.
In the garden, Mia was crouched over the crack in the paving, checking on the dandelion.
She had a small watering can Lily had found in the garage.
She was watering it with great concentration.
"Tell his barrister no," Ryan said.
"Ryan, I want you to think carefully—"
"No settlement.
No money.
No deal." His voice was steady.
"If Derek Paulson wants to walk away from his daughter, he can do it in front of a judge, on the record, where it cannot be undone or renegotiated later when it suits him." He watched Mia tip the watering can very carefully.
"I will not pay a man to pretend he doesn't have a child.
That child deserves better than that."
Tom was quiet for a moment.
"All right," he said.
"I'll convey that."
"And Tom — is there any way to use the fact that he made the offer?
That he's willing to sell his parental rights for money?"
"It speaks to his motivation," Tom said.
"It won't be admissible directly, since it was made informally.
But it informs our understanding of what he actually wants.
And what he actually wants is not Mia."
"No," Ryan said.
"What he wants is leverage."
"Yes."
Ryan ended the call.
He went to the back door and opened it.
"How's the dandelion?" he called.
Mia looked up.
"I think it needs more sun," she said seriously.
"But I'm helping it."
"Good," Ryan said.
"Come inside when you're ready.
I'm making lunch."
She went back to her watering.
He stood in the doorway and watched her, and he thought about Derek Paulson sitting in a lawyer's office somewhere, calculating the price of a child he had never wanted and had only now decided to claim because someone else did.
He thought about Claire, writing that letter four months before she d*ed, trusting him with the most important thing she had.
He thought about Mia, three years behind a wall, learning to be silent, learning to take up no space, learning that the world outside was something she was not allowed to be part of.
And he thought: *Not anymore.*
May you like
He went inside to make lunch.
Three days later, Derek Paulson violated the court's no-contact order.
