A child weighed like one more item on an inventory.

“June is not a bill I sent your son,” I said.

Margaret’s fingers tightened around her handbag.

“I thought,” she said finally, “that if he went running back out of guilt, both of you would be miserable.

He was just beginning a new relationship.

There had been so many false hopes during the marriage.”

For a moment I could only hear the ventilation system humming overhead.

“You read it,” I said.