PART 2
Daniel later told his brother he assumed the envelope contained some dramatic apology.
It did not.
Ava entered first. She threw her purse onto the bench near the door and called, “Megan?”
There was no response.
Daniel walked into the kitchen and noticed the envelope with his name written across it in my handwriting.
DANIEL.
Not honey.
Not Dan.
Not my husband.
Only Daniel.
He opened it while Ava leaned against the counter, still wearing the smug smile she had brought home from the barbecue.
There were three items inside.
A copy of an application for a temporary protection order.
A printed record of transfers from our joint account into Daniel’s private account.
And a letter from my attorney, Renee Caldwell.
Daniel’s expression changed before he finished the second paragraph.
Ava noticed immediately. “Dad?”
He did not respond.
He continued reading.
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