Chapter 8: The Interview
Ethan called after Garrick’s first formal interview.
“He’s careful,” Ethan said. “Admits the argument history in soft language. Claims the protective order was an ambush. Says the gun was for personal protection because he felt threatened by ‘unknown parties’ after the divorce filing. He doesn’t know how much of the prior weapons trail we already have.”
“Does he know about me yet?”
“Not from us. His counsel may start digging. The retired-administrator cover still holds for now. I’d like to keep it that way until the domestic case is locked in and the federal questions are fully framed.”
“Agreed.”
I spent the afternoon with my mother at the temporary apartment. She moved through the small kitchen with the careful economy of someone relearning ordinary tasks without an audience. When she finally sat, she looked older than she had two weeks earlier, but the constant flinching had eased.
“He’s going to say terrible things about me,” she said.
“Yes.”
“About you too.”
“Yes. None of it changes the record.”
She studied my face for a long moment.
“You planned for him to come to your door.”
“I planned for the possibility. He chose the action.”
May you like
She nodded slowly, accepting the distinction the way people accept difficult truths when they have run out of softer alternatives.
That night I updated the log, confirmed the next court date, and slept without the exterior feeds open on my phone for the first time in days.
