PART 3
At sunrise, Julian arrived in a dark overcoat with his hair still damp from the snow.

He had been my friend since law school, although I had chosen engineering while he stayed with the law.

He carried coffee, a portable charger, and a folder divided by colored tabs.

“Before we talk about your mother,” he said, “tell me what Maya needs.”
The question stopped me.

I had spent the night cataloging betrayal.

I had not made a single list of what would help Maya feel safe when she woke.

“Food she can tolerate.

A warm place.

Somebody she trusts.

A nurse if she wants one.

And time.”
“Then that’s our first list.

Now show me the bank permissions.”
I explained how I had authorized Eleanor to use a supplementary card for household supplies after the delivery became complicated.

Chloe had insisted she could organize a nurse, and Mark, Chloe’s husband, had offered to handle errands.

I had granted limited purchasing access rather than direct ownership of any funds.