“I’m thinking about them,” he said.

“I’ve done the arithmetic very carefully.

With what this pays, I can build a far better life than the one waiting for me once my creditors catch up.

You have no idea how much I owe, Clara.

This is the only way out I have.”

I begged him.

I am not ashamed of it.

I reminded him of our first ultrasound, of the crib he had assembled with his own hands, of the names we had chosen together on a Sunday morning in bed.