The last six weeks replayed in my mind.
There had been strange things.
Not suspicious enough to become a problem.
Only strange in retrospect.
Nolan staying up late.
Phone calls outside.
Once, I woke at two in the morning and found him sitting alone at the kitchen table with his laptop open.
I walked in.
He immediately minimized the window.
“What are you doing?”
“Reading.”
“At two?”
“You’re awake.”
“I’m pregnant.”
“That’s different.”
He smiled.
I saw an email subject before the screen disappeared.
Something about genetic verification.
I assumed it was work.
Nolan worked in corporate compliance.
Everything he handled sounded vaguely medical or legal when removed from context.
Another afternoon, a thick envelope arrived from a law office I didn’t recognize.
Pierce & Alder Family Records Counsel.
Nolan took it upstairs.
