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

studied him.

The old her would have offered comfort. The old her would have said, “You’re not a bad person.” The old her would have made his regret easier to carry.

She did not do that anymore.

“I hope you become a good father,” she said. “Not for me. For them.”

His eyes filled.

“Do you think they’ll hate me?”

Savannah looked at the falling snow.

“They’ll continue reading …