I knelt on the floor and unzipped the broken suitcase.

The strips of silver tape peeled back slowly from the cracked plastic corners where Chloe had hastily repaired it.

I started pulling out the huge pile of paperwork she had stuffed inside to save it from Richard.

I laid the documents out one by one across the cheap floral bedspread, smoothing the wrinkled edges.

There was a second marriage certificate from a county three hours away, dated four years ago.

There were thick stacks of hospital bills with Valerie’s name printed at the top, listing emergency room visits and delivery charges from September.