A year later, we drove past the courthouse and she told me that she was still proud of her own courage on that day. I told her that she was my hero and that I would spend the rest of my life making sure she felt loved and protected.
THE END.
At our divorce hearing, my husband sat there acting calm, his lawyer painted me as the unstable mother, and I could feel the room starting to lean his way. Until my 7-year-old daughter stood up in her little blue dress, clutched her purple tablet with shaking hands, asked the judge if he would please watch something I knew nothing about
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