For 4 years, I picked up my sister’s kids from school for free. One day I was 37 minutes late, and she screamed at me in front of them: “Not with my children!” Then she shoved me out of her house. I stopped picking them up. 11 days later, the school called me. Then my sister called 6 times. I turned my phone face down.

“I’ve given you plenty.”

“Not money for childcare.”

She waved her hand.

“Coffee. Meals. Being part of the children’s lives. Do you know how many people would be grateful for that opportunity?”

I took a slow breath.

“Then why did you tell the court you paid me $950 a month?”

She leaned back.

“Because the court needs financial information. Everything I’ve spent has been for my children.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

She reached into her folder and slid a sheet of paper toward me.

It was a prepared statement.

According to the page, Nicole had supposedly handed me cash every month in an envelope left near the fruit bowl on her kitchen counter.

I read it carefully.

Then I looked up.

“You want me to say this?”

“Yes. It’s simple.”

“But it’s false.”

Nicole’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t be difficult, Micah.”

I thought about the five transfers.