Twenty-six years ago

In the small, stale motel room, my knees gave out as my midsection contracted.

“Ever.”

The word echoed off the smoke-stained walls.

I collapsed into the cracked vinyl chair. “Daniel, I don’t know if I want to know your reasoning. I can’t go anywhere else. I can’t stay away from Chicago. I’m taking a leave of absence from the circuit court for Araneae’s birth, but I can’t walk away from our life.” Before ...