The divorce filing went in that week.
Ryan fought everything.
The house.
Custody.
Money.
Even Sophie’s medical records.
He claimed I was alienating her.
He claimed Dad was controlling me.
He claimed Diane was old and misunderstood.
Then Diane gave a jailhouse interview to a local blogger and ruined his strategy.
“She needed discipline,” Diane said on camera. “Girls today think marriage means freedom.”
Marla watched the clip and smiled like a hawk.
“Thank you, Diane.”
The clip went viral.
People heard the belt in my father’s video.
Then they heard Diane defend it.
Ryan’s employer suspended him.
Diane’s church removed her from the women’s committee.
Her friends stopped answering calls.
I wanted satisfaction.
Instead, I felt exhausted.
Sophie started therapy twice a week.
The therapist, Janine, used dolls.
Sophie made the grandma doll yell.
Then she put it in a box.
“Grandma time-out,” she said.
Janine looked at me.
“That is a good instinct.”
Dad rented a small house near us while I stabilized.
Every morning, he made pancakes badly.
Sophie ate them anyway.
One day she pointed to a burnt one and said, “Grandpa made tire.”
Dad laughed so hard he had to sit down.
For the first time in weeks, I laughed too.
It felt strange.
Like using a muscle after injury.
But it worked.
