“The unique view of the court system that comes from sitting in my chair only intensifies what I learned as a family law attorney. The court is ill-equipped to handle these cases. Emotional issues, domestic violence, privacy concerns, who is the best parent outside of a contentious divorce. These aren’t subjects that can be assessed during the brief snapshot in time of a trial.” Retta moved her untouched teacup to the table. “There’s a reason the judges assigned to these cases insist they’d rather review a mediocre agreement than sit through a fantastic trial.”

“Mediation isn’t appropriate here. Darren would try to intimidate Ellie like he did during the marriage. Though, to her credit, Ellie is willing to fight when it comes to Curtis.” Jessa feared this would be one of those cases that kicked around the courthouse for years. Motions filed. Allegations of this and that. Attempts to change the custody arrangements and tens of thousands of dollars, or more, spent fighting rather than raising Curtis.

“So, you wouldn’t advise Ellie to run.” Retta didn’t ask it as a question.

Jessa decided to answer it as a hypothetical. “No.”

“What would you suggest she do?”

“I’m not her attorney,” Jessa said, parroting back Retta’s earlier point.

Retta frowned again. “You wouldn’t suggest to her that fighting fair might not be enough? That she might need to take drastic steps to protect her son?”

“She needs to let the process work.” Silence followed Jessa’s bold statement, highlighting how juvenile and unrealistic it sounded.

Retta stared at Jessa for a few seconds before speaking again. “Interesting.”

Jessa knew that was bad.

“Do you know why Earl and I called our charitable organization the Sophie Foundation?” Retta asked.

Jessa still wasn’t clear on much about the organization or the group behind it. “No.”

“It’s named in honor of Sophie Kline. Sophie and I went to law school together. Lived together before I got married.” Retta’s voice shook through the first few words but quickly eased back to its usual steady cadence. “She was fun and vibrant. Smart. My closest friend. She had an incredible daughter, my goddaughter, Claire.”

Past tense. Jessa didn’t say a word. She had heard rumors about a tragedy in Retta’s past and watched now as a broad smile stretched across Retta’s face at the mention of Claire then vanished as a bleak chill blew through the room.

Part of Jessa didn’t want the conversation to end. The private, between-friends loosening of the formality made her ache for more. But she sensed pain coming and knew it would blanket and smother every other emotion in the room.