Through the glass wall of the conference room, I could see Catalina sitting in the reception area, going over prenatal-care options with her advocate, a folder open on her knees.

She was pointing at something on the page.

And she was smiling — the first real, unguarded smile I had seen on her since the afternoon I found her on his floor.

I watched her for a moment before I answered him.

“I didn’t destroy anything,” I said.

“I documented the life you built.