The Perfect Father Performance
Derek stood when the judge invited him to speak. His expression became soft and sorrowful.
“I’m not trying to punish Natalie. She’s Callie’s mother, and I respect that. I just want my daughter to have consistency.”
I almost laughed. Derek had attended one parent-teacher conference in three years. He did not know Callie’s science teacher’s name. He could not remember which medication she needed when seasonal allergies became bad. He rarely knew when school projects were due.
Yet there he stood, presenting himself as the parent who had been carrying everything.
Then he gestured toward Sienna.
“Sienna and I are building a stable family. We’re expecting a baby, and Callie would have a structured environment with us.”
Sienna lowered her eyes and touched her stomach again. The performance was convincing.
I looked toward the judge, Elaine Whitaker, a woman in her late fifties with a calm expression and thin-framed glasses. She turned toward me.
“Mrs. Hollis, would you like to respond?”
I had prepared for that moment. For weeks, I had written down everything I wanted to say. But suddenly my throat closed.
I looked at Derek. He gave me the smallest smile. It was barely visible. But I recognized it. He knew exactly what was happening. For years, he had taught me to question my own words before speaking them.
