We sign the decrees.

Then you can go get your kids.”

I tucked Micah’s drawing back into my pocket.

The paper had gone soft along the folds.

The clerk pushed the custody decree across the counter and laid a blue pen on top.

“Sign the last page first,” she said.

“The trust authorization after that.”

Chloe Sterling straightened her horn-rimmed glasses and turned the stack to face me.