I would have to pick it back up.

I would have to become, again, the woman who read the whole contract.

For my son, I found, I could become anyone.

I looked over at Micah, asleep and oblivious, his chest going up and down under the hospital blanket, three hours into a life his father had already planned to spend him out of.

“I need three people,” I said.

“The best divorce attorney you can put in a room.