Chapter 4: Names
We had picked names in the guest room months earlier, sticky notes on the wall. Eli and Noah. Rivers. I refused to let Noah become only “the other one” in paperwork.
Sara helped me file the formal requests. Maya was protected enough to keep her job while the review ground forward. Ryan moved into the guest room at home “for logistics” and tried, once, to deliver a monologue about unity for Eli’s sake. I told him unity without truth was just a quieter lie. He left with his gym bag and a face like a closed account.
Relatives divided into camps without being asked. His sister called me unstable. My brother flew in and read the chart until his jaw hurt. The funeral for Noah was small. Ryan stood on the opposite side of the urn. I did not take his hand. I held Eli instead, and the weight of one living child and one refused transfer rewrote every vow I had spoken in a rented garden three years earlier.
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