Madison’s voice softened again.
“We both made choices.”
Mark looked at the three cribs.
“No. I made mine.”
He ended the call.
The next morning, Mark called every person Emily might have gone to.
Her college roommate, Claire, gave him nothing.
Her cousin in Vermont said, “She’s safe,” and hung up.
Her old supervisor at the nonprofit said Emily had requested extended leave months earlier and had “prepared for more than you knew.”
That phrase followed him all morning.
Prepared for more than you knew.
By noon, he was sitting across from a family attorney named Peter Ellison, a measured man with wire-rimmed glasses and a talent for silence.
Mark explained the hospital confusion, the discharge, the babies, the lack of information. He did not mention Madison at first.
Peter listened without interruption.
When Mark finished, the attorney folded his hands.
“Your wife has not broken the law by leaving the hospital with the children under medical guidance, provided there are no custody orders in place.”
