He barely spoke to the girls — afraid, I think, that any tenderness toward them would weaken his position, or perhaps that if he looked too closely at his own family the whole delusion would come apart in his hands.

So he didn’t look.

He kept his eyes on his tablet and his theory, and he waited for a piece of paper to tell him what four daughters and a newborn son could have told him if he’d only been willing to see them.

Chapter 15 — Leander’s Name

I spent those forty-eight hours holding my son — I had named him Leander — and making phone calls of my own.

I called my attorney.