Camden’s paying garnishments on two separate court orders now, out of a junior analyst’s salary.” She paused.

“Rosalind still writes, by the way.

To you.”

“I know,” I said.

My former mother-in-law had spent months sending long, wounded letters begging for time with her granddaughter — pages about the friends who had dropped her, the jewelry she’d had to sell, the sacred rights of a grandmother to see her lineage.

I had not answered one of them, and I would not.

I did not owe Rosalind my peace, and I most certainly did not owe her my daughter.