Chapter 11: Not Stated

I gave the pen back.

"Leave it blank," I said.

The woman in the green cardigan looked at the line.

"Ms. Larkin, if the father isn't listed, there are consequences for the child's records. Medical history, inheritance."

"I know."

"He can be added later. If the father signs an acknowledgment."

"He won't be signing anything."

She waited, and I did not fill the silence.

"I'll mark it as not stated," she said, and wrote it down.

She stood and smoothed her cardigan.

"For what it's worth," she said, more gently, "I've seen a lot of blank lines. Most of them were the right call."

When she left I put my face in my hands.

I did not cry again. I stared up at the ceiling until I was calm.

Rory was two days old when they let me go.

I rode down in a wheelchair with a plastic bag of supplies in my lap.

Ansel carried the car seat in front of me with both arms and a very serious face.

"It's eight pounds, Ansel," I said.

"He's eight pounds of my entire responsibility."

"He is not your responsibility."

"I know. Let me have this."

The elevator opened on the lobby, and I stopped.

At the information desk stood a young man in a dark suit with a leather folder under his arm.

He was the one from the gallery door.

He was talking to the receptionist and looking at the front entrance.

Through the glass wall I saw a black sedan at the curb, engine running, windows dark.

"Back," I whispered. "Back in the elevator."

Ansel did not ask.

He pressed the button, and the doors closed on the lobby.

"That's Merrick's lawyer," I said.

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