But to something: a text about medication, a photo of Sophia someday, a diminished and careful and honest relationship between two people who had finally, once, stood on the same side.

It is not the father I wanted.

But he asked where the notary was.

And I have decided to let that count.

Chapter 15 — The Affidavit

My father executed the affidavit that very afternoon, before an independent notary public, affirming under oath that he had knowingly and voluntarily transferred the property to me five years earlier, without coercion and without misunderstanding.

When he finished signing, he tucked his copy carefully inside his coat, as though it were something precious, or dangerous, or both.