Clara placed both hands over her pregnant stomach.

She was thirty-two weeks along, close enough to delivery that the smallest clothes in our upstairs dresser no longer seemed theoretical.

“I really want to read the whole document first.”

“There is nothing to read.

It’s a simple formality for the family trust.”

“I told Marcus on Tuesday.

I want to wait until the baby is here before we move any assets around.”

Arthur slapped his palm against the cover.