Luca’s head snapped up then, his eyes rimmed with red, a brief flicker of his old desperation surfacing.

He looked past Rachel and stared directly at me for the first time since he had entered the room.

“Jessi,” he choked out, his voice cracking.

“Jersey City?

I’m living in a studio apartment with a radiator that barely works.

You want me to see my own kids in a state-monitored visitation room, like I’m a stranger?”

I looked at him calmly.

And I searched myself, honestly, for the anger I might have expected to feel, the sting of the old betrayal, some flicker of the desire for petty vengeance.