“I need air.”
He followed me to the porch but gave me space. The cold wind touched my face, carrying the scent of damp leaves and distant woodsmoke. Across the street, a neighbor’s dog barked. Somewhere, life continued as if revelations were not quietly rearranging the ground beneath me.
A little boy.
I wondered if he had Ryan’s eyes. I wondered if Claire watched him sleep the way I already imagined watching my own child. I wondered what she had escaped with him in her arms.
And I wondered why Ryan had pretended they did not exist.
That night, I called Claire.
My father sat beside me, not close enough to crowd me, not far enough for me to feel alone. Ruth had provided a number and warned that Claire might hang up.
The phone rang four times.
“Hello?” a woman answered.
I closed my eyes.
“Claire? My name is Emily. Emily Bennett. I’m married to Ryan Carter.”
