The deputies took Jaclyn by the elbows and walked her out through the side door into the administrative hall.

She didn’t look back at Clay, and she didn’t look at me.

Judge Miller picked up his wooden gavel.

“This court stands adjourned,” he said.

The gavel struck the block and rang through the hushed gallery like an iron door slamming for good.

Clay rose slowly, looking toward the side door where Jaclyn had vanished.

The hallway outside was quiet, but the weight of the last ten months still pressed down on both of us.

“Is it over, Mom?” Clay asked softly as we stepped out into the bright marble corridor.