My Husband Texted “Stay Upstairs” Before Our Son’s Birthday—Then an Officer at the Door and a Blue Folder Changed What He Thought He Knew

He shifted the carton.

“I thought you knew.”

I did know.

Or I had known once, clearly enough to sign my name.

I photographed the envelope and slid the registration papers back into their sleeve.

Ethan watched me.

“Are you checking birthday paperwork now?”

“Property paperwork.”