Melinda picked it up.
“Yes,” she said. “I am.”
For a moment, I saw the entire balance of their marriage shift. Connor saw it too, and that was why his face changed. It was not the legal folder that frightened him most. It was not Kenneth or the temporary order or even the word forged.
It was losing control of the story.
He had survived by being the narrator.
Now someone else was speaking.
I opened the door.
The hallway seemed too bright.
I stepped out first, then Kenneth. Behind us, Melinda pushed the stroller silently, Elliot awake now and blinking at the ceiling lights. Connor followed last, his phone already in his hand.
At the elevator, Kenneth touched my elbow gently.
“Are you all right?”
“No.”
He nodded. “That’s a reasonable answer.”
