The meeting was not a grand reconciliation.

It was forty-five minutes in an ordinary room with clean toys, a comfortable chair, and someone present to help keep the visit calm.

I waited nearby, close enough to respond if Oliver needed feeding, but far enough to allow Vance to focus on his son rather than argue with me.

He arrived early.

His face had grown thinner.

He wore a sweater instead of the tailored coat he’d once insisted was part of his professional identity.

When the staff member offered him the baby, Vance looked frightened.