Sarah is gone when I open my eyes. For the first time in a long time, I wake up feeling good—like everything is going to be okay. Sarah finally wants what I want: a family. We’re on the same page. All this time, I’ve been several chapters ahead of her, and now she’s caught up. I hope she’ll take a step back from the firm and focus on starting a family. I have a feeling what we did last night took, and in nine months we’ll be welcoming a baby Morgan to the world. This is what I was meant to be, a father.

I slide out of bed and put on a pair of boxers, balled up beside the nightstand. With a bit of pep in my step, I brush my teeth, rearrange my bedhead, and throw a couple handfuls of water in my face. Today is going to be a good day. It’s 11:30am, and I slept in a bit longer than I intended, but it doesn’t matter, because today is the first day of the rest of my life.

As I go down the stairs, it hits me like a smack in the face… Kelly. Shit, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have written that note. I should have ended it last night. I run back up the stairs to retrieve my cell phone. Just as I grab it, the doorbell rings. I quickly put on a pair of pants and a T-shirt and slip my phone into my pocket. The doorbell rings again.

“Jesus Christ. I’m coming!”

There are several loud knocks.

“Hold on!” I make my way down the hallway, down the stairs, and to the front door. I swing it open and find two men standing there in matching attire: tan Dickies uniforms, complete with utility belts and wide-brim hats. The looks on their faces are similar, stern and frustrated… or is that disgust or discontent? I can’t really tell. I rub my eyes. The one on the left, a tall white male, with a hard jaw and piercing green eyes speaks first.

“I’m Sheriff Ryan Stevens. Are you Adam Morgan?” he asks.

I nod.

The one on the right speaks next, an even taller black man with broad shoulders, and a visage that looks chiseled from stone. “I’m Deputy Marcus Hudson. We need to ask you some questions about your whereabouts yesterday evening.”

“What’s this about?” I grip the front door with one hand and exchange glances with both the sheriff and his deputy. There are two squad cars parked on the street.

“We just need you to answer a few questions for us,” Sheriff Stevens reiterates with a little more sternness and impatience.