None.

The grandmother who had wanted to teach a five-week-old her place would not be permitted to be in a room with her.

It gave Marisela no thrill to read the order.

But it gave her something better than a thrill, something she had not felt since before Alma was born, since before the slow campaign of that family had begun to close around her.

It gave her the deep, structural, load-bearing peace of a person who knows that the thing she loves most in the world is safe, and that the safety is written down, and stamped, and enforceable, and does not depend on anyone’s goodwill ever again.

Chapter 22 — The Counseling Room