“He sent them to me,” Renata said.

“To my private phone.

Over the last year.

He was never careful, because he never thought he’d need to be.” She looked down at her own hands.

“He promised me that the moment you stopped nursing Micah, he’d file, and he and I would raise the baby together.” A breath.

“He told me you’d never really wanted to be a mother.

That you were cold.