one.
I learned what my rights were.
I learned about custody.
Our finances.
Shared assets.
What my position looked like as Sophie’s primary caregiver.
I gathered financial documents.
And because Elon had become careless, I found additional evidence.
Messages.
Receipts.
Enough to confirm what I already knew.
I wasn’t interested in revenge.
I wanted protection.
For myself.
And for Sophie.
Then I realized our anniversary was coming.
Sunday.
Originally, I had planned a small dinner.
Something sweet.
Something the old Grace would have arranged in the hope that maybe we could reconnect.
Instead, I changed the plan.
I called my parents.
My sister.
Elon’s parents.
His brother and sister-in-law.
I invited everyone to our house.
“Anniversary dinner,” I told them.
Elon seemed pleased.
A little surprised.
But pleased.
Sunday morning, I cooked.
Roast chicken.
Mashed potatoes.
Green beans.
Homemade pumpkin pie.
I set the table beautifully.
I dressed Sophie in
