Chapter 25 - The review hearing
Six weeks after Michael’s release, family court held scheduled review.
Not because he demanded custody.
Because final order required it.
Dr. Morris reported, with Emily’s consent, only relevant points:
Emily still not ready for direct contact.
Fear reduced somewhat.
She recognizes father’s compliance.
No clinical reason to force reunion.
Dr. Green recommended:
Continue Sarah’s sole legal authority for another year.
No direct parenting time.
Permit therapeutic letter exchange if Emily chooses.
Reevaluate only upon request or material change.
Michael accepted.
His lawyer did not fight.
Judge asked:
“Mr. Bennett, do you understand that compliance does not guarantee contact?”
“Yes.”
“Do you believe you are entitled to reunification because you completed treatment?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because Emily is not a reward.”
There.
The judge looked at me.
“Ms. Parker, do you intend to obstruct future contact regardless of Emily’s wishes?”
“No.”
“Would you support it if she wants?”
I swallowed.
“Yes.”
I meant it.
That was harder than wanting him punished.
Then Emily’s surname.
No change requested.
No need.
Then financial support recalculated based on Michael’s new income.
He paid.
No arrears games.
Health insurance remained mine.
Extraordinary medical expenses from incident already allocated.
Then the criminal supervision officer reported compliance.
No early termination yet.
Normal.
Then Michael’s employer promoted? Too soon. No.
He was simply working.
Then Kevin said Michael had started coaching no youth sports and would not until court situation clearer.
Good.
Then Emily’s next choice.
She asked Dr. Morris:
“Can I see him where there’s a glass wall?”
Not literal prison wall.
She meant therapist office with separate exit.
A structured therapeutic meeting.
Twenty minutes.
No physical contact.
No apologies unless asked.
No discussion of court.
Scheduled.
I did not attend.
Waited outside.
After twenty-three minutes Emily came out.
Face pale.
Not crying.
Michael exited through other hallway.
No encounter with me.
In car:
“How was it?”
“Weird.”
“Want to talk?”
“No.”
Then five minutes later:
“He didn’t say I misunderstood.”
I looked at her.
“That mattered?”
“Yes.”
Then:
“He asked if my stomach still hurts.”
“What did you say?”
“Sometimes.”
True.
Scar sensitivity.
Then:
“He said okay.”
Not:
I’m sorry again.
Not:
It wasn’t my fault.
Just okay.
One meeting.
No reunion.
May you like
No hug.
Enough.
