He apologized for the delay and explained that someone had intentionally blocked his car in the parking garage that morning. He also reported that his mobile phone had been stolen from his desk while he was speaking with a client.
“I have the courier receipts and copies of the emails your assistant sent to delay my arrival,” Simon said while looking directly at Harrison. Harrison tried to laugh it off as a ridiculous conspiracy theory, but his voice was thin and unconvincing.
The judge warned Harrison’s attorney to control his client before he made the situation even worse for himself. Each order the judge issued after that felt like a brick being removed from the wall Harrison had built around my life.
He granted a temporary protection order and gave me exclusive use of our home while the divorce was pending. He ordered the immediate reinstatement of my medical insurance and froze every single bank account associated with Harrison’s firm.
He also launched a formal investigation into the fraudulent transfer of the Miller Manor properties. Harrison objected to every single point, but the judge overruled him with a finality that was breathtaking to witness.
When Harrison leaned over and told me I would regret this, the judge leaned forward with a look of cold fury. “Mr. Prescott, you just threatened a witness in my presence after I have seen evidence of your abuse,” he said.
Harrison tried to claim that I was his wife and that he had rights, but the judge corrected him immediately. “She is a citizen under the protection of this court, and you are currently a liability,” the judge replied.
I looked at my manila folder and realized it was no longer a symbol of my failure or my shame. It was the physical proof that I had survived his shadow long enough to finally see the light.
Vivian was escorted out of the room by a deputy, and she didn’t even look back at the man she had tried so hard to steal. Harrison remained in his seat, looking like a man who had just realized the world no longer belonged to him.
