At Easter dinner, my mother-in-law had me – News

window, and the deep, quiet sense of having arrived somewhere I would not be asked to leave.

My phone buzzed on the bedside table. Sarah glanced at the screen and her expression shifted slightly.

“It’s from David’s defense attorney,” she said carefully. “Subject line is plea for leniency. And a visitation request.”

I did not reach for it. I did not need continue reading …