I knew the signature.

And I knew that I had never asked anyone to write those words.

What most disturbed me was a line about Elena’s “future parental decisions.” Someone had known she was pregnant.

Someone had decided I should not know.

Elena met me that afternoon in a public garden near her sister’s neighborhood.

Rose sat nearby reading a newspaper.

The arrangement was deliberate, and I appreciated it.

Elena wasn’t alone with me, and neither of us had to pretend we trusted the other entirely.