Chapter 11 - The Lawyer’s Note
Naomi did not celebrate when she received Grant Hale’s internal note.
She became cautious.
That frightened Aisha more than excitement would have.
“Is this privileged?” Aisha asked.
“Possibly.”
“Then why do we have it?”
“It appears to have been included inadvertently in a document production.”
“So we can’t use it?”
“Do not read further.”
Aisha stared at her.
“I already saw the highlighted line.”
“So did I. I’m notifying Grant immediately.”
Aisha felt frustration rise.
“This says Derrick’s custody position might have been strategic.”
“It is still potentially privileged attorney work product.”
“He used strategy to take my children.”
“And we do not fix ethical misconduct by committing our own.”
Aisha leaned back.
Naomi sent the notice while they sat there.
Three minutes later, Grant called.
Naomi placed the call on speaker only after obtaining permission.
“Naomi.”
“Grant.”
“You received a document that should not have been produced.”
“I believe so.”
“You must destroy all copies.”
“We will sequester it pending agreement regarding privilege.”
“You know it’s privileged.”
“I know it may be.”
Grant’s voice tightened.
“Your client has no right—”
“My client did not request privileged communications.”
Aisha watched Naomi remain perfectly calm.
“We will follow the rules.”
After the call, Naomi closed the folder.
“We proceed without it unless a court determines otherwise.”
Aisha exhaled.
“It feels like every time something proves what happened, there’s a reason it doesn’t count.”
Naomi looked at her.
“That is because court is not therapy.”
“I know.”
“No, you understand the sentence. I’m not sure you accept it yet.”
Aisha looked away.
Naomi continued.
“A court cannot validate every injury.”
“Then what is it for?”
“Deciding legally relevant questions with admissible evidence.”
“That sounds so small.”
“It is.”
Naomi folded her hands.
“Which is why you need to decide whether you want justice from the court or healing from Derrick.”
Aisha’s laugh was bitter.
“I’m not expecting healing from Derrick.”
“Good.”
“Is that cynical?”
“It’s practical.”
That evening, Derrick requested to meet.
Aisha agreed only at a public coffee shop.
He arrived carrying a folder.
“I told Grant I won’t sign the retaliation response.”
Aisha raised an eyebrow.
“Congratulations.”
“I’m trying.”
“I know.”
“You don’t make it easy to try.”
“I’m not responsible for making accountability comfortable.”
Derrick sat.
For several moments neither spoke.
Then he opened the folder.
“I drafted something.”
Aisha did not touch it.
“What?”
“A statement.”
Her eyes narrowed.
He slid it across.
She read.
I acknowledge that certain representations made during the prior custody proceeding did not fully reflect the context of scheduling changes, housing transitions, and educational responsibilities.
Aisha stopped.
“Did not fully reflect the context?”
Derrick shifted.
“I’m admitting they were incomplete.”
“You asked me to swap weekends and then said I abandoned them.”
“I’m correcting it.”
“You drained the joint account and then described my temporary housing as instability.”
“I didn’t drain it.”
“Derrick.”
“Fine.”
His frustration surfaced.
“But if you expect me to write that I maliciously manufactured evidence—”
“I didn’t ask for the word malicious.”
“Your attorney’s letter practically does.”
“My attorney described facts.”
He leaned forward.
“I am offering to admit mistakes.”
Aisha looked at the draft again.
Mistakes.
The word irritated her.
A missed appointment was a mistake.
Sending the wrong lunch was a mistake.
A strategic omission repeated under oath was a decision.
“What are you afraid of?” she asked.
“I told you.”
“Losing custody?”
“Yes.”
“I already said I’m not asking for sole custody.”
“Judges don’t have to follow what you ask.”
“No.”
“And if a judge thinks I lied—”
“You did.”
Derrick’s expression tightened.
“You want me to use that word.”
“I want you to stop using smaller words because they feel safer.”
People moved around them carrying coffee.
Aisha lowered her voice.
“You keep acting like truth is something I’m doing to you.”
Derrick looked down.
She pushed the draft back.
“This is a start.”
He looked surprised.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Hope appeared.
“Then we can—”
“I said a start.”
His shoulders dropped.
“What else?”
“Specific corrections.”
She counted them.
“The schedule changes.”
He nodded.
“The complete joint-custody email.”
Another nod.
“The school involvement.”
His mouth tightened.
“The money.”
He looked up.
“That belongs in the financial case.”
“It became part of custody when you used my housing against me.”
Silence.
“And your mother’s testimony.”
“That’s hers.”
“She will correct hers.”
Aisha studied him.
“Will you correct yours?”
Derrick looked at the draft.
Finally he said, “Yes.”
Aisha did not smile.
“Good.”
He seemed almost disappointed by her lack of gratitude.
Then his phone rang.
He silenced it.
It rang again.
“Take it.”
He glanced at the caller ID.
Maya’s school.
He answered immediately.
“Hello?”
A pause.
His expression changed.
“No, she should be in class.”
Aisha sat straighter.
“What happened?”
Derrick held up a hand.
“Yes. Yes, I understand.”
He ended the call.
“Maya forgot her science project.”
Aisha relaxed slightly.
“Where is it?”
“At my house.”
“I can get it.”
“I’ll go.”
“You have the Parker meeting today.”
He stared.
“How do you know?”
“You complained about it during marriage for three years.”
Despite everything, Derrick almost laughed.
“I’ll handle it.”
Aisha checked the time.
“My office is closer to your house than yours.”
He hesitated.
Pride.
Old habit.
Then he said, “Can you?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you.”
She stood.
“Aisha.”
“What?”
“I mean it.”
She looked at him.
“I know.”
She picked up her coat.
For once, helping him did not feel like surrender.
It felt like parenting.
There was a difference.
Twenty minutes later, Aisha entered Derrick’s house using the temporary code he texted.
She found Maya’s project beside the dining table.
As she picked it up, a folder fell from a chair.
Papers scattered.
Aisha knelt automatically to gather them.
Then she saw the heading.
PRIVATE CHILDCARE AGREEMENT.
She should have stopped reading.
Instead, her eyes caught the date.
The agreement had been signed six weeks before the custody hearing.
Not after Derrick became overwhelmed.
Before.
He had hired a weekday nanny before telling the court he personally had the flexibility to provide full-time care.
And the person who signed as emergency backup was Loretta.
Aisha stared.
May you like
![92 The Girl They Called Broke Was a Billionaire’s Daughter—But Her Father’s Arrival Exposed a Secret Powerful People Had Buried for Years]](https://cdn.treeiq.biz/site_590/2026/11/clone-0-0915d882-53d7-4d17-b43a-a010ca1a1068.webp)
Derrick had not underestimated parenting after winning custody.
He had known before court that he could not do it alone.
