The nurse moved closer to me protectively.
“That is not how birth certificates or medical transfers work,” she said.
Daniel gave her a dismissive glance.
“You would be surprised what can be arranged when the right people cooperate.”
I should have been terrified.
Perhaps part of me was.
But I did not cry.
Daniel had always misunderstood my silence.
He believed it meant submission.
He had mistaken my patience for helplessness and my quietness for ignorance. He had seen me attending appointments, making private phone calls, and meeting with attorneys during my pregnancy, but he assumed I was too overwhelmed to notice what he was doing.
He never imagined those meetings had been about him.
