Part 1

The phone rang while my newborn daughter slept against my chest, her tiny body still flushed and angry from being born. I almost ignored it—until Daniel’s name lit up on the screen like a warning.From the steps of a cathedral, my ex-husband spoke, cheerful and cruel: “Claire, I thought you should hear it from me. I’m getting married today.”Behind him, I heard music, laughter, clinking glasses—the polished, expensive noise of people celebrating the man who had ruined me and smiled while doing it.I looked down at my daughter’s fist clutching my hospital gown. “Congratulations,” I said.