The Judge’s Call: Checkmate Before the Papers Arrived

Last chapter, I told you how the vacation to Maine gave me clarity, and how opening the conversation about moving triggered J’s dad’s “emergency” custody filing.

But here’s where the board really started to tilt.

According to our marital settlement agreement, big decisions like moving are supposed to be discussed before going to court. I did exactly that. I followed the rules. I raised the topic. I thought we were on decent terms, at least enough for a conversation.

What I got instead was a pawn slammed across the board, an emergency motion. And before I could even breathe, W dropped his own urgent custody filing, skipping dialogue and jumping straight to legal warfare.

The Illegal Move

Here’s the kicker: I hadn’t listed my condo. I hadn’t withheld the kids. I hadn’t broken one single order. But motions don’t need truth; they just need signatures.

And when you don’t share the same language or access points with a co-parent—when dialogue doesn’t exist—things escalate quicker than strategy can counter. I saw it coming. I just didn’t realize how deep the setup went.

The Judge’s Call

That Friday, my phone rang. Caller ID: the courthouse.

I had an attorney. Judges don’t call litigants. But I answered.

He asked what I was doing. I told him I’d just left the courthouse, just filed for protection against W, and was grabbing a late lunch. His reply? “That’s strange.”

Then came the reveal: he had W and his attorney sitting on a Zoom call. And me? No notice. No hearing papers. No chance to defend myself. Awkward.

Instead, I was told point-blank: if my son wasn’t turned over the following evening, I’d be serving 180 days in jail.

No papers. No order in my hand. Just a chess clock ticking down over my head. A judge’s personal verbal warning. And still…no documentation.

The Echo Chamber

I complied. I turned my son over. But within hours of that Judge’s call, Pat came crawling out of the woodwork with his “karma” emails:

“Karma Biiiiiiiiiiitch #180.”
“Enjoy jail, because that’s where you’re going.”
“Cock carousel.”

The same phrases W had used. The same number the judge had threatened. Echoes.

That’s when it hit me: this wasn’t coincidence. This was collusion. Pieces moving in unison, echoing one another’s language, one coordinated move at a time.

And the thing about echo chambers? They always collapse when the truth gets too loud.

Disclaimer:
This blog reflects my personal experiences and perspectives navigating divorce, custody, and the family court system. It is not intended as legal advice or factual testimony in any ongoing or future proceedings. Names, dates, and details are shared as part of my story. For legal guidance on your own situation, please consult a licensed attorney.