Chapter 7

Following a hunch from the kindergarten assignment, a clue about a "special party," I found myself at a rented party house in an amusement park. The windows were decorated with balloons and a large banner that read "Happy Birthday, Noah!"

Through the glass, I saw Julian and Seraphina surrounded by staff, celebrating their son. My stomach churned as I watched the main event: a "whack-a-mole" style game, but instead of moles, the targets that popped up were pictures of my face, printed and pasted onto tin cans. Noah shrieked with laughter as Julian helped him swing a mallet, smashing my likeness over and over.

Seraphina spotted me through the window. Her eyes glittered with victory. She pulled Julian into a deep kiss, then prompted Noah to hold up a large, hand-drawn sign that read, "DADDY LOVES MOMMY." The scene was a grotesque parody of family life, staged entirely for my benefit.

Later, she cornered me in the park's public restroom. She didn't say a word, just pulled the folded divorce agreement from her designer handbag and handed it to me. His signature was scrawled at the bottom, hasty but unmistakable.

"Noah said your life story would make a great paper airplane," she said with a dismissive shrug. "He thinks it would fly the farthest."

I took the papers. A sense of profound relief washed over me. I was finally, truly free.