Tanya stopped directly in front of Garrett and opened the folder.
For several seconds, the only sound in Dolores’s backyard was the sprinkler ticking across the grass.
Garrett’s plastic cup lay on its side near his shoe, melting ice spreading between the patio stones.
Colleen came through the gate behind Tanya with her own file tucked beneath one arm.
She didn’t look angry.
That was what made Garrett watch her so carefully.
Colleen had the composed expression of someone who had already numbered the pages.
Dolores recovered first.
“What is she doing here?”
She said it to Garrett, not Tanya.
That told me more than any confession could have.
Garrett glanced toward me.
I kept both hands resting lightly over my stomach.
He had seen me angry before.
He had seen me cry after failed fertility cycles, after bad test results, after another month ended with a phone call from a clinic telling us to try again.
He had never seen me this still.
“Tanya,” he said carefully.
“This isn’t the place.”
Tanya gave a short, disbelieving laugh.
“You told me there was no place where she still mattered.”
The nearest conversations stopped.
His brother lowered the serving spoon he was holding.
Two cousins standing beside the cooler turned toward us.
Dolores crossed the yard so quickly her sandal caught against a chair leg.
“Tanya, please,” Garrett said.
There it was.
Not confusion.
Recognition.
He knew her well enough to use the voice he probably used whenever he needed her to become reasonable for him.
Tanya pulled out a sheet of paper.
“You told me your divorce had been final for years.”
Garrett looked around the yard.
“We can discuss this privately.”
“No,” I said.
It was the first word I had spoken.
His eyes snapped toward me.
I walked to the folding table and set down the glass of lemonade I had been holding.
“No more private versions.”
Dolores stared at me.
“You knew?”
I looked at her.
“I know about Vineland.”
Her face changed.
I continued.
“I know about the car seat.
I know about the crib and stroller.
I know about the withdrawals.
And I know where the payments to Dr.
Petrova’s office came from.”
Garrett went white.
Tanya looked at him.
“The payments came from her account?”
“Our account,” I said.
“His and mine.”
She closed her eyes for half a second.
Garrett stepped toward us.
