His 47 Seconds Of Silence Cost Him Everything Chapter 25
Three days after the hearing, my lawyer asked if I would be willing to take a call.
“Jude’s child therapist has requested one supervised phone conversation,” he said. “The child asked for it himself. If you refuse, it won’t affect the case at all.”
My first reaction was a familiar tightening in my abdomen.
In my memory, Jude would always be wearing that yellow life jacket, poking his head out of the boat cabin and laughing, “Surprise.”
But he had only been eight years old.
It was the adults who had hidden him there, taught him when to appear, and turned a child’s trust into a weapon.
“I need a night to think about it.”
“Of course.”
That night, I barely slept.
I wasn’t his mother.
And after the divorce, I wasn’t his bonus mom anymore.
I didn’t owe anyone a conversation.
But the next morning, I sent my lawyer a message.
“Okay. Voice only. No recording.”
When the screen connected, Jude was sitting in a counselor’s office.
He looked a little taller. His hair was cut short. His hands were hidden under the table.
The therapist spoke first. “Jude, do you remember the rules we agreed on?”