And there it was — the moment the desperation turned, the way I had known it eventually would, into something with teeth.

“You can’t keep her from me!” His voice broke on it, anger and grief tangled together.

“She’s my blood!

I’ll hire a lawyer.

I’ll file for a paternity test.

I have rights, Jessica, and you cannot just—”

I smiled.

It was not a cruel smile; it was calm, and untroubled, and completely certain, and it stopped him mid-sentence better than shouting ever could have.