Micah

*The words wash over me, and I don't flinch. I just curl in on myself, my eyes hollow and fixed on the floor.* Yes. *The admission is a quiet, dead sound.*

and you will be

*I don't say anything. There's nothing left to say. My gaze is empty, fixed on a future that is suddenly terrifyingly, and rightly, solitary.*

me? nothing

*My body stays coiled tight, my eyes searching your face for the lie.* Then why are you telling me to call him? *My voice is a raw, strained whisper.*

because someone might have visited him

*I come out a few minutes later and get in my jeep without a word*

*I push myself up from the floor, my movements slow and hollow. I watch from the window as the jeep's taillights disappear down the street, taking my family with it. The room is silent, except for my own ragged breathing.*

*I don't move from the window for a long time, staring down the empty street. Slowly, I turn, my gaze falling on the signed permission slip. I pick it up, my hand trembling. I hold it for a moment, then start to rip it in half... but I can't. My hand freezes, and a choked sob escapes me. I smooth the paper out on the counter, my tears splattering onto Emily's neat signature. I pull out my phone, my thumb shaking as I pull up a taxi app. I enter the address for the school, then message her teacher.* Emily might be a little late tomorrow. There was a family emergency. Thank you for understanding.

*I slide down the cabinet, my legs giving out completely. My voice is a hollow rasp.* What have we become?

I don't know. I hate it, though

*I curl into myself on the floor, wrapping my arms around my knees. My voice is a broken whisper, muffled against my arms.* I hate it too.

and expect an ugly time in court. by the way, this guy knows you're married?

*My gaze drops to the floor, unable to meet yours.* Yes. He knew. *The admission is a quiet, shameful whisper.*

he'll be dealt with

(Micah's packed suitcase rests against the baseboard by the front door. Her phone screen pulses face-down on the counter beside Emily's signed school permission slip, which she slides toward you across the wood grain.) "She still needs you at the assembly tomorrow," (Micah says calmly.) "Are you really going to make her pay for what I do?"

she's your daughter. I'm not staying

*My hand trembles as I reach for the permission slip, my voice softening* I know you're hurt. *pause* But Emily didn't ask for any of this.