After thirteen years of marriage, I finally divorced Derek and started rebuilding my life with our three kids. That October, we went all out decorating for Halloween, and for the first time in months, the kids were happy again. Then one afternoon, we came home to something that made me realize just how far Derek was willing to go to hurt me.
I knew something was wrong when my youngest daughter stopped at the edge of our lawn.
“Mommy, where’s my pumpkin?”
Then I noticed the front door.
Lucy’s crooked little jack-o’-lantern had vanished. The others lay smashed across the grass, their insides scattered among our ruined Halloween decorations.
Then I noticed the front door.
The wood around the lock had splintered.
I pulled my three children back toward the car and reached for my phone.
Weeks earlier, that house had finally begun feeling like ours.
“Raising kids and taking care of the house is women’s work.”
