That might not sound like a miracle to anyone who’s never been lied about by someone they loved. But sanity, handed back to you with a signature and a seal, can feel like oxygen.

Connor’s voice dropped. “Kirsten.”

I almost laughed at the intimacy of it. He hadn’t said my name gently in years.

“What did you do?”

“I kept copies,” Kenneth said.

Melinda made a broken sound. Connor turned on her so fast the stroller jerked, and the baby stirred. I moved before I thought, one hand reaching to steady it — but Melinda pulled it back against her hip, protective at last.