in his pocket.
My hand stayed on the latch for three seconds.
In medical emergencies, I’ve timed worse choices.
Three seconds can be long.
In the first, I considered remaining silent until he left and then shaking alone inside my own house.
In the second, I imagined opening the door six inches, giving him nothing, sending him home, then spending every Tuesday expecting another knock.
In the third, something became very clear.
I had done nothing wrong.
I had built this house, this life, and this child from honest work
