“It says I’m suffering from severe prepartum depression.”

Eleanor took a small sip of her water.

“An auditor who can’t keep her mind clear can’t be expected to manage a newborn without supervision.”

“Why are you pushing for legal custody before the baby is even born?” I asked.

Eleanor smoothed the cuff of her silk sleeve and looked past my shoulder at the dark balcony windows.

“Because the Vance foundation requires a healthy, stable home for its heirs, and you’re showing neither.”

“I’m not signing this,” I said, pulling the clinic receipt back to my side of the table.