Suddenly Dad’s strange request made more sense.
Legal help.
Certified copies.
Adoption files.
He hadn’t been considering doing something.
He had already started.
I grabbed my keys.
Then the woman stopped me.
“There’s one more thing.”
“What?”
“Your father left very specific instructions.”
I waited.
“He said you must not discuss the contents of the envelope with your wife until after you’ve spoken privately with Ms. Desai.”
I didn’t move.
Every strange detail from three days earlier suddenly pointed in the same direction.
Dad looking toward the house.
Dad worrying someone would call him confused.
Dad worrying he would be accused of interfering with my marriage.
And now this.
Natalie was specifically not supposed to know yet.
At the hospital, a nurse placed the sealed envelope in my hand.
Across the front, in Dad’s handwriting, was one word.
**Grant.**
A woman in a gray blazer stood when she saw me.
