“I know a divorce lawyer. You don’t have to do anything yet — just talk to someone.”

I wrote the lawyer’s name on the back of a grocery list and hid it in a drawer.

Then, one rainy Thursday afternoon, someone knocked on my front door. When I opened it, the life I’d known ended.

Chapter 5 — The Knock

Elliot stood on the porch. He was thinner than I remembered, soaked through, holding a battered suitcase in one hand. In the other arm he carried a newborn wrapped in a hospital blanket.

“Elliot?” I whispered. “Where have you been? Whose baby is that?”