Finally, Margaret removed her glasses.
“This attachment is questionable,” she said. “Possibly invalid, depending on how it was presented and witnessed. But I do not like it.”
“What does it mean?” I asked.
“It means someone was preparing for a situation where your husband could speak for you and the child under very specific conditions.”
Dad’s voice was low. “Can we revoke it?”
“Yes. Today.”
I exhaled so hard my shoulders shook.
Margaret’s expression softened. “Emily, listen to me carefully. Paper can be challenged. Fear can be challenged. You are not without options.”
I wanted to believe her. For the first time, I almost did.
When we returned home, a car was parked across the street.
A silver sedan.
Dad noticed it before I did. His posture changed, just slightly.
“Inside,” he said.
“Is it Ryan?”
“I don’t know.”
But as we walked toward the porch, the driver’s door opened.
