The dawn light crept through the cracks in the curtain, illuminating the guest room of the cabin where I had spent the night awake. The future of my children would be decided on that day, ironically and cruelly, on their birthday.

I rose from the guest room, the cold wooden floor under my bare feet. I headed to the bathroom, leaving behind the shadows of the restless night. The morning ritual was like a mechanical act, an attempt to prepare myself for what the busy day had in store. I ...