My husband files for divorce, and my 10-year old daughter asks the judge: ‘May I show you something that Mom doesn’t know about, Your Honor?’ The judge nodded. When the video started, the entire courtroom froze in silence.
The wood of the witness stand felt slick under my fingers. I kept wiping my palms on my skirt, but they stayed damp. Across the courtroom, my husband, Mark, sat ramrod straight beside his attorney, jaw clenched, eyes cold. For fifteen years, that face had meant “home.” Today, it meant “opponent.” His lawyer had just…