What I felt was a cold, surgical calm.

In the mirror the makeup artist worked on my face, and across the room the ivory dress hung against the window.

Months before, I had chosen it to begin a family.

Now I understood I would be wearing it to end one — a family of predators who had eaten one woman’s life already and sat down, smiling, to eat mine.

At eleven a text came from Fitzroy: Federal filings complete.

Phase two active. And then one from Yvaine: I’m out.