not targeted me because I was difficult.
Or vulnerable.
Or newly postpartum.
He had known exactly who I was from the day Caleb introduced us.
The party.
The guardianship paperwork.
The attempt to portray me as unstable.
It had never really been about taking Grace.
Not entirely.
It was revenge.
Thirty-four years late.
Against my mother.
And Ron had waited patiently until I had something precious enough to lose.
