Kenneth handed it to me. “You should read this privately.”

Connor stepped forward. I didn’t step back. Kenneth shifted half an inch between us — a small movement, but Connor saw it. So did Melinda. So did every adult in that corridor who’d been pretending not to listen.

“Give me that,” Connor said.

“No.” The word was quiet. It was also complete.

I opened the envelope. Inside was a certified copy of a report from the clinic, attached to an amended filing Kenneth had prepared that morning.

I read the first line. Then the second. Then the third.