“There was another couple.” Amelia was speaking rapidly and still in a high register. “I actually saw them leaving Lucia’s house. I saw their photo. They live in Manhattan and they want the baby too. Lucia told me they’re attorneys, but the woman plans to stop working and stay at home, or so she said to Lucia.” She perched on the edge of her desk. “Still, I’m pretty sure Lucia’s going to choose us. I told her all about you, Fritz. What a terrific father you are. I told her about Natalie—how excited she was for a little sister. It’s a girl, by the way. Lucia is having a girl.”

“I thought you were dead!” Fritz exploded, spitting at her. He slammed his fist into the nearby wall. He picked up a book from his desk and threw it across the room. “You have no fucking concern for anyone but yourself.”

I inhaled and exhaled slowly, in an effort to quiet my nervous system.

“I lost my phone!” Amelia said. “It slipped out of my purse, I suppose.” She examined her leather bag, the interior pockets, as if she was trying to figure out how the phone could possibly have fallen out. “And when I arrived, it was a sensitive moment. Lucia’s mother was there, and I needed to show immense respect. They take this very seriously. They’re religious people. It would have been a big mistake to make it all about my lost phone,” she said. “I needed to communicate the right narrative.”

I interjected. “There’s not another chance to make a first impression.”

“Exactly,” Amelia said.

Fritz pushed his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose.

“Fritz,” Amelia said, “you need to meet Lucia and the family. We need to go together tomorrow.”

“I don’t think so.” He wiped saliva from the sides of his mouth.

“What?” Amelia said.

“Maybe you should invite her to come here,” I said, digging the nails from my right hand into the palm of my left hand. “She would meet Natalie. And she would see the warmth and love in your family.”

“Good idea.” Amelia brightened. Strands of her hair were taken over by static and sticking straight up in the air.

“When is her baby due?” Fritz asked.

“It’s important for us to say ‘the baby,’ not ‘her baby.’ We have to send the right energy into the universe.” Amelia motioned up and out with both hands. “Language is powerful.”

“When is the baby due?” he repeated.

“May tenth.”

A timer was set on a ticking bomb. I had two months in which to shift the outcome. Long, slow, deep breaths.

“I don’t think she should come here,” Fritz said. “No one’s committed to anything.”

“Well, sweetheart…” Amelia paused.