“You left the house after two o’clock without permission,” David whispered.

His voice was so quiet I had to lean in to hear him over the idling Buick.

“David, my birth plan folder and my blood pressure pills are still on the nightstand,” I said, pressing my palm hard against my chest.

“You can take your plastic bags to your sister’s apartment,” David whispered through the crack.

“You’re not sleeping under this roof tonight.”

“This is my home,” I said, my voice breaking in the cold air.