Twelve Months Later, Ethan Came Back With a Sleeping Newborn and a Broken Suitcase

I shook my head.

Then I walked through the door.

The courtroom was small and bright, with two tables and a row of chairs.

Marcus stood at the front table with his pen clicked shut.

The baby made a sound behind me, a small complaint, and Ethan said, “Almost there.”

I didn’t look back at the bench.

The heavy oak doors of family court swung shut behind me.

The brass key turned more easily than I expected.