Divorce is one of those things that people never expect to have happen to them. Like getting braces or breaking a leg, it seems to be something that happens to other people exclusively. But Karen is getting a divorce. She's getting a divorce and everything is turning to shit.

Apparently, divorce is the most stressful event a person can go through. Well, second worst, next to losing a child. Thank god that has never happened to Karen, or she'd be absolutely devastated. She knows this because she's barely managing with the divorce.

The divorce.

Karen is getting a divorce.

No matter how many times she says it, she still can't come to terms with the fact that Scott is going to be her ex-husband. He's leaving her. He's leaving the kids. They aren't going to be a family anymore. It's over.

Karen sobs into her arms. She's sitting at the table with an empty plate in front of her. She wanted to get a bagel, but she forgot all about it when her thoughts turned to her separation. She's hungry and miserable and quite possibly depressed. She didn't think it would come to this, but it has. Everything is wrong and nothing is right and Karen just wants the pain to end. She wants the sun to come crashing into the Earth in a fiery apocalypse of death and incinerate the entire population so that she won't have to admit that the love of her life is leaving her.

With a frustrated scream, Karen runs across the room and smashes her fist against a mirror that is hanging on the wall. She punches it repeatedly, ignoring the blood that drips down her hand. She shouts at her fragmented reflection, though she does not hear what she's saying. All she knows is that she hates herself and Scott and everyone in the world.

Everyone except for her children.

Oh, god. She's a mess, isn't she?

Karen falls to the ground, her knees bent in front of her. Her hair has come loose, and her clothing is stained with blood and tears. Still, she sits in the middle of a semicircle of shattered glass, crying helplessly. After a few panicked breaths, she reaches for the broom. It falls to the ground with the handle pointing away from her. She crawls towards it. The mirror fragments dig into her palms. She is making bloody handprints on the floor. When her fingers slide down the broom's bristles, they become red too.

Karen collapses. She lies on the ground like a wounded animal. She doesn't want to get up.

But she does. She cleans up the mess and takes a shower and wraps gauze around her hand and changes her clothes and looks perfectly sane by the time Gray comes home from school. As soon as the bus pulls away, he runs up to her and gives her a hug, smiling as he presses his cheek against her blouse. She hugs him back, as usual. She is suddenly reminded of Zach when he was this small. He'd waddle over with his backpack bouncing behind him and hug his mother, just like Gray is doing right now. Karen wishes that she could go back in time . . . back to when Zach wasn't embarrassed to say that he loved her . . . back when Scott loved her, too.

Karen can't stop herself from crying. She kneels down and rests her cheek on Gray's shoulder. Her tears get caught in his hair.

He's worried about her. He asks he if she's okay. He's noticed the bandage on her hand. She didn't mean for him to see. Now her sorrow has affected him.

Karen reassures her son that everything is okay and sends him up to his room. She is about to tell him that he can spend the next hour reorganizing his toy dinosaurs, but she knows that he would be suspicious if she allowed him to shirk his homework. He'll probably finish his math in no time, anyway. She'll let him have fun after that. He won't suspect a thing.

Once he's upstairs, Karen takes a deep breath. She picks up the phone, dials a long number, and leans against the kitchen counter with the receiver against her ear. It goes to voicemail. She tries again. After a grating dialup tone, it goes to voicemail once more. She tries for a third time and gets the same result.

This pattern remains unbroken for five more attempts. Karen begins pacing back and forth with fresh tears pouring down her cheeks. She's about to give up, but the sound of a familiar voice makes her change her mind.

"Karen?"

She whimpers pathetically.

"Claire, I need to talk to you."

There's a puzzled shuffling on the other end of the line.

"Karen . . . Are you okay?"

She sobs.

"No. Scott is divorcing me."

Her confession is met with a stunned pause.

"Oh . . . god . . . Karen, I'm so sorry."

She takes a shaky breath.

"Things are starting to get messy. I punched a mirror."

"You did what?"

"I punched a mirror with my bare fist. I must be going crazy."

"No, you're not. I did something similar a few weeks ago."

Karen frowns in confusion.

"Claire . . ."

"Let's not get off topic," she says evasively, "If you're actually getting divorced-"

"I am."

"-you'll have to sort out the legal proceedings. I know a good lawyer. I can have him fly over-"

"Claire, I'm not worried about the legal stuff. I'm worried about the kids."

Claire hums.

"They'll be fine."

"How do you know?"

"They're mature."

"You hardly know them."

"They take after you, don't they?"

Despite everything, Karen smiles.

"You're so good at flattery, Claire. But I really do need your help. Do you think you could look after them for a while?"

Silence.

"I just need a weekend. That's all," she adds.

Claire chokes a little.

"Karen, I haven't seen Zach and- I haven't seen the kids for a while. Are you sure they'd be okay with-"

"Please, Claire," Karen whispers, "I need you."

She gives a reluctant sigh.

"I might be able to fit them in. How does January sound?"

Karen's jaw drops.

"It sounds awful! Claire, I need you right now!"

"I'm busy with work. I can't just leave here."

"So I'll send them over to you."

"Wh- Oh, no, no, no, no, no!" Claire stutters, "You can't do that. I'm about to seal a deal with-"

"Claire. I'm begging you. If you do nothing else for me as long as you live, do this. You're my only hope."

"This is a bad idea."

Karen closes her eyes.

"Trust me: as long as you help me through this, everything is going to be just fine."

"What if something goes wrong?"

Karen frowns.

"Now you're just making excuses."

Claire huffs angrily.

"Fine. Send them to Jurassic World for a weekend. I'll do what I can to make things right."