After he left, I folded the copy and placed it in the drawer beside the clinic notes.
The baby’s due date was less than a month away.
I began preparing a small bag for the hospital.
I packed comfortable clothes, a phone charger, my mother’s knitted blanket, and the notes from the specialist.
I wrote down the names of the people I wanted called.
My mother’s name was there, though I knew I could not call her.
Alexander’s name was there too, with a note beside it: Only if I ask.
I did not know whether I would ask.
The company’s review had concluded, but its consequences were still unfolding.
Olivia’s position had ended, and the fund would be administered under stricter rules.
Alexander had retained his title, though the board required him to report on the reforms and share oversight with an independent committee.
