“Whose adoption?”

She drank from her cup and made a face at it, like she had forgotten it was decaf.

“Yours.”

“Say that in plain words.”

“I’m Sophie.

I’m the woman your husband has been seeing since October.” She said the month like a fact she had checked and rechecked.

I put my keys on the table beside the envelope and moved them an inch to the left.

Then back.