At Easter brunch, my sister asked, “How was the Fiji wellness retreat I booked for you

A Family at Odds

Meanwhile, Tara was calling family members about the plan to transfer grandma’s house to her name. Several cousins were angry, saying it wasn’t fair to punish the whole family for Michael’s crimes.

Our cousin David said Michael was still family and deserved forgiveness. Tara’s voice got louder as she argued that Michael had stolen enough from the family already.

The calls got more heated as relatives took sides and old family conflicts came back up. By the end of the week, our extended family was split into two camps.

Some supported holding Michael accountable, while others thought we were being too harsh. Family group texts turned into arguments with people bringing up grievances from years ago. The unity we’d had at the Easter intervention was completely gone now.

The Playground Encounter

Three days later, I was waiting in the pickup line at Lily’s school when I spotted Michael’s car pulling into the visitor parking lot. My stomach dropped as I watched him get out without his cane, walking perfectly normal toward the playground where kids were lining up.

I grabbed my phone and started recording while texting the principal’s office that we had an emergency situation. Other parents were staring as Michael approached the fence, calling out to Lily who looked confused seeing him there.

The yard monitor intercepted him, asking if he was on the pickup list, and I heard him say he just wanted to say hi to his daughter. I kept recording everything while walking over, my hands shaking but determined to document this violation of our agreement.

Several other parents came over asking if I needed help, and I asked them to please remember what they were seeing for court purposes. The principal arrived within minutes and escorted Michael back to his car while I wrote down every parent’s name who witnessed him trying to make contact.

That afternoon, Alistair reviewed my footage and immediately started drafting emergency motions for restraining orders and temporary custody arrangements. He filed everything electronically that same day and got us on the court calendar for the following week.

The court clerk called to confirm our hearing date and warned me these emergency hearings could get intense. I told her I had documentation of everything.

Facing Financial Ruin

Two days later, Eva Bianke from Michael’s company called while I was making dinner. She explained they had been investigating his FMLA paperwork and found major problems with his doctor’s notes that didn’t match any actual medical records.

The signatures were forged and the medical license numbers didn’t exist in any database they could find. She said they were suspending him immediately pending termination proceedings, which meant his paychecks would stop within days.

I thanked her for letting me know and hung up feeling sick about our finances getting even worse.

That evening, I sat at my kitchen table with every bill and bank statement spread out, creating the strictest budget possible. Rent was non-negotiable at 1,500. Utilities ran about 200.

Groceries I could cut to 300 if we ate lots of rice and beans. Car insurance, gas, phone bills—everything got listed and analyzed for any possible cuts.

The Disney fund jar sat empty on the counter, reminding me of all the dreams we’d given up for his fake treatments. I counted out our remaining cash and divided it into envelopes for each essential expense, knowing there was nothing left for anything extra.

The next morning, Michael’s mother showed up at my door looking older than I’d ever seen her. She started crying the moment I opened the door, saying she knew something was wrong for years but always made excuses for him.

She told me about times he’d lied as a teenager and she’d covered for him, times he’d stolen from relatives and she’d paid them back quietly. Her guilt was real, but I couldn’t comfort her when I was barely keeping myself together for my kids. She left after 20 minutes still crying, and I felt nothing but exhaustion watching her go.

The Investigation Strengthens

Later that week, Alistair’s investigator called with interesting news about the fake counseling charges. He’d traced the payments to a company called Luxury Escapes that specialized in high-end travel packages with discreet billing names for clients who needed to hide expenses.

They were already cooperating with authorities about similar fraud cases and had records of every trip Michael booked through them. The investigator said this evidence would really strengthen our case since it showed deliberate deception and planning over 18 months.

Meanwhile, Tara was on the phone with her credit card companies trying to dispute the charges. She managed to get chargebacks on the last three months of payments, about $9,000 total, but anything older was past the dispute window.

She texted me that at least it was something and she was grateful to get any of it back.

The hardest part came when I had to tell the kids the truth about their dad. Janie had coached me through exactly what to say, but my voice still shook as I sat them down in the living room.

I explained that daddy wasn’t really sick and had been telling lies to all of us for a long time. Jake just stared at the floor, but Lily immediately asked if this meant we could go to Disney now since daddy didn’t need medicine anymore.

I had to tell her we actually had less money now because of all the lies and watched her face crumble as she processed that information. She ran to her room and slammed the door, while Jake asked quietly if daddy was going to jail.

I said I didn’t know, but we were safe and everything would be okay eventually, even though I wasn’t sure I believed it myself.

The Court Battle Begins

That weekend I noticed Michael posting on social media about going through mental health struggles and needing support during a difficult time. He never mentioned the fraud or fake illness, just vague statements about depression and anxiety that made him sound like the victim.

Friends started texting me asking what was happening and if the family was okay. Some of them had already heard rumors and wanted to know the truth, but I didn’t have the energy to explain everything individually.

Alistair helped me write a brief statement that stuck to basic facts without getting emotional or accusatory. We kept it simple, saying Michael had been dishonest about medical issues and misused family money, that we were separated and handling it through legal channels.

I sent it to close friends and family who needed to know, and it felt good to finally tell the truth instead of keeping his secrets anymore.

Two weeks later, I sat in the courthouse waiting room with my hands shaking while Alistair reviewed our documents one more time. The custody hearing lasted 3 hours, with the judge asking detailed questions about Michael’s fake illness and the money he’d stolen.

I showed her every piece of evidence we’d collected, including the travel photos and bank statements, and watched her face get harder with each page.

She granted me primary custody right there in the courtroom, with Michael getting supervised visits twice a week at a family center downtown. Michael’s lawyer tried to argue for more time, but the judge cut him off, saying the evidence of deception was overwhelming.

Michael’s email blaming his fake illness on being stressed from pretending to be sick—that’s some circular logic that makes me wonder if he actually believes his own stories at this point. Walking out of that courthouse felt like the first real victory in months, even though Michael glared at me the whole way to the parking lot.

Violations and Vandalism of Trust

That night Jake showed me his phone with tears in his eyes because his dad had texted him directly, even though the court order said no contact except during visits. The message said mommy was confused and daddy was really sick, but the doctors just couldn’t find what was wrong yet.

I took screenshots of everything and sent them straight to Alistair, who filed an immediate violation report with the court. Jake asked if his dad would go to jail for texting him and I had to explain that probably not, but it would help us keep everyone safe.

The next morning Tara called with news that made my stomach drop. She’d been going through old bank statements and found withdrawals from Michael’s grandmother’s care account every month for the past 2 years.

$500 had been moved to an account we couldn’t trace yet. The family started arguing about whether to tell Grandma, who was 93 and already confused most days.

Michael’s mom said it would kill her to know her grandson stole from her, but Uncle Tony said she had a right to know where her money went. We decided to wait until we had more proof before making any decisions about telling her.

Meanwhile, Eva from Michael’s company called with shocking news about his work situation. She’d been reviewing his FMLA paperwork and discovered the doctor’s signatures were forged on every single form.

The handwriting expert they hired confirmed Michael had signed the doctor’s name himself, which was a federal crime. She said the company was referring everything to prosecutors and would be firing Michael immediately for gross misconduct.

Reclaiming the Pieces

I asked if this meant jail time and she said it was possible, but would depend on what the prosecutor decided to do. The termination letter arrived at our house 2 days later even though Michael hadn’t lived there for weeks.

I forwarded it to his mother’s house where he was staying and tried not to think about how this would affect child support.

That weekend I drove to the pawn shop where I’d sold grandmother’s pearls just to look at them one more time. They were still in the case priced at $1,200, which was three times what they had given me for them.

The owner recognized me and said I could have them back for 800 as a special deal, but that was still our grocery money for the month. I took a photo of them sitting there in the case and left without saying anything else because some things just can’t be fixed.

Michael’s first supervised visit happened the following Tuesday at the family center downtown. The kids came home upset because he’d spent the whole two hours trying to convince them he was really sick.

The supervisor had to redirect him five times according to the report she gave me afterward. She wrote down everything, including how he told Lily that mommy didn’t understand his illness and asked Jake to tell the judge daddy needed medicine.

Both kids said they didn’t want to go back, but the court order meant they had to keep going twice a week. Tara started coming over after school to watch the kids while I picked up extra shifts at work.

We worked out a whole schedule where she’d pick them up and help with homework while I worked until 7:00 or 8:00 at night. It was exhausting, but the extra money meant we could keep the lights on and buy real food instead of just pasta every night.

She never asked for anything in return and said helping us was helping her heal from what Michael did to her too. The big family meeting happened on a Sunday at Michael’s mom’s house with 20 relatives crammed into her living room.