PART 3 The courthouse smelled like wet coats, old paper, and coffee that had been burned for too many hours.

returned not to the house she had shared with Bryce, but to her mother’s home in Oak Park.

It was a brick house with creaky stairs, warm lamps, and framed family photos covering almost every wall. Her father’s chair still sat near the fireplace. Rachel had never moved it.

The nursery had been set up in the sunroom.

Three cribs.

Three tiny name signs.

Three continue reading …