The detention center smelled of floor wax and vending machine coffee.

A guard took me to a stool behind a glass panel and pointed at the phone on the wall.

Delaney picked up on the second ring.

She had on the orange shirt they’d issued her and no jewelry.

Her nails were bare, and she checked them anyway.

“You look worn out, Arthur.”

“I signed the custody papers this afternoon, Delaney.”

Her mouth went tight.