ELIJAH'S POV
Once the en masse of grievers at my family home dispersed a bit, I made my way back home. Partly out of worry and fear. The drive home was quiet, the silence heavy in the car as I pulled up to the gate. The gate man nodded at me, his usual stoic expression in place as he began to open the gate. I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as I glanced at the backseat. The stack of divorce papers sat there, stark white against the dark leather, a tangible reminder of everything that was spiraling out of control. I had gotten them ready the second I had realized that father was living on borrowed time. It never occured to me that I would have to use it so soon.
