Chapter 12: The Last Move
Ten days before the hearing, Derek's barrister called Tom with a new proposal.
Ryan was in Tom's office when the call came.
Tom put it on speaker.
"My client has new information," the barrister said.
"Information that materially affects the welfare report.
He is prepared to share it with the court — or, alternatively, to discuss it privately with Mr.
Calloway first."
Tom looked at Ryan.
Ryan shook his head once.
"Any information your client has should be submitted through proper channels to the court," Tom said.
"We will not be meeting privately."
"My client believes Mr.
Calloway will want to hear this before it becomes part of the public record."
"Then your client can submit it to the court, where it will be evaluated appropriately.
Is there anything else?"
A pause.
"My client is also prepared to make a revised offer.
He is willing to accept a formal kinship arrangement — Mr.
Calloway as primary guardian, with supervised contact for Mr.
Paulson twice yearly."
Ryan's jaw tightened.
Tom kept his voice level.
"We'll convey that to our client.
Is the new information contingent on acceptance of this offer?"
Another pause.
Longer this time.
"No."
"Then submit it to the court.
Good day." Tom ended the call.
He looked at Ryan.
"He's bluffing.
If he had genuinely damaging information, his lawyers would have submitted it already — it would only help his case.
He's trying to create uncertainty."
"What's the twice-yearly contact proposal?"
"A fallback.
He knows he's losing.
He's trying to get something — any foothold — before the hearing closes the door entirely." Tom set his pen down.
"My recommendation is to reject it.
A twice-yearly contact order gives him a legal mechanism to re-enter Mia's life on a recurring basis.
Given his history, that is not a door we want open."
"Reject it," Ryan said.
"I'll send the formal response today."
The response was sent.
Derek's barrister acknowledged it with two words: *Noted.
Understood.*
Ryan went home and said nothing to Mia about any of it.
That evening, Sandra came to the house.
It was the first time she had come since the move.
She stood on the doorstep with a casserole dish covered in foil, looking slightly uncertain — an expression Ryan had rarely seen on her face in twelve years of marriage.
He stepped back and let her in.
Lily ran to her immediately.
Sandra held her for a long moment, her eyes closed.
When she opened them, she looked at Mia, who was standing in the kitchen doorway with Gerald under her arm, watching.
Sandra crouched down to Mia's level.
"Hello," she said.
"I'm Sandra.
I'm Lily's mum."
Mia looked at her carefully.
"I know who you are," she said.
Sandra nodded.
"I know you do." She held out the casserole dish.
"I made a lasagna.
It's the one Lily likes.
I thought you might like it too."
Mia considered the dish.
Then she looked at Ryan.
He gave a small nod.
Mia took the dish with both hands.
"Thank you," she said formally.
"You're welcome," Sandra said.
They ate together at the kitchen table — all four of them, for the first time, without a wall between them.
The conversation was careful and quiet.
Lily did most of the talking, describing the dandelion in the garden with great enthusiasm.
Mia ate two portions of lasagna.
After dinner, Sandra helped Ryan wash up while the girls watched television.
"How is she?" Sandra asked quietly.
"Better every day," Ryan said.
Sandra dried a plate.
"I've been speaking to a therapist.
For myself." She didn't look at him.
"She says I made a decision that was about controlling the situation rather than what was actually best for Mia.
That I convinced myself they were the same thing."
Ryan kept washing.
"She's right," Sandra said.
"Yes," Ryan said.
"She is."
Sandra set the plate down.
"I'm not asking you to forgive me.
Not yet.
Maybe not for a long time." She turned to look at him.
"I'm just asking you to let me try to be better.
For Lily.
And for Mia, if she'll let me."
Ryan looked at his wife — this woman he was still trying to understand, still trying to decide what to do with, still trying to separate from the person he had thought she was.
"That's going to take time," he said.
"I know."
"A lot of it."
"I know that too."
He handed her the last dish.
She dried it and set it with the others.
From the living room, he could hear Lily explaining something to Mia with great authority.
He could hear Mia asking a question.
He could hear Lily answering, and then both of them laughing.
It was a sound he was still getting used to.
Still learning to trust.
The hearing was in ten days.
Derek Paulson had one move left, and he played it the night before.
Ryan's phone rang at eleven o'clock.
Unknown number.
He answered.
"Last chance," Derek said.
His voice was different now — the smoothness gone, something harder underneath.
"Take the twice-yearly arrangement.
Let me have something.
Or I walk into that courtroom tomorrow and I tell them about the money."
Ryan went still.
"What money?"
"The money Sandra took from my account.
Four years ago.
Before Mia was born.
Claire came to her for help and Sandra gave her twenty thousand pounds of my money to help her disappear." A pause.
"Sandra st*al from me, Mr.
Calloway.
That makes her a crjminal.
And you're living with her.
And you want a judge to give you a child."
Ryan sat down on the edge of the bed.
His mind was moving fast.
"Are you threatening me?" he said.
"I'm giving you information.
What you do with it is up to you."
"If Sandra took money from you, that's a matter for the courts.
Submit it as evidence tomorrow.
Let the judge evaluate it."
A silence.
"You're not frightened," Derek said.
It wasn't quite a question.
"No," Ryan said.
"And I'll tell you why.
Because even if everything you just said is true — even if Sandra took your money — it means she used it to help a terrified woman escape from you.
And I think a judge who has read Joanna's statement and Claire's text messages is going to have a very specific reaction to that information."
A long pause.
"See you tomorrow," Ryan said, and ended the call.
He sat in the dark for a moment.
Then he called Tom.
Tom listened to the full account without interrupting.
When Ryan finished, Tom said: "He's desperate.
If he had submitted that information earlier, it might have had some impact.
Bringing it up the night before the hearing, after everything else that's on record — it will read as exactly what it is."
"A last attempt to create doubt."
"Yes.
Get some sleep, Ryan.
Tomorrow, we finish this."
Ryan set his phone down.
He went to check on the girls.
Both asleep.
Mia had Gerald tucked under her chin.
The drawing — the house with four figures — was pinned to the wall above the bed.
Ryan had found a thumbtack and put it up himself, the first week in the rental.
May you like
He stood in the doorway for a moment.
Then he went back to bed, and for the first time in weeks, he slept without waking.
