The rain had stopped, leaving a heavy fog clinging to the motel window.

Nathan was already awake, standing by the small vanity mirror.

He was buttoning his dark gray suit jacket, his movements precise and methodical.

“We should go,” he said, noticing me sitting up.

“The traffic into downtown Nashville will be heavy.”

I stood up, smoothing down my dark blue dress.

It was the only formal outfit I owned, purchased at a consignment shop three years ago.

We woke Rosie up, wrapping her in her yellow raincoat.

She rubbed her eyes, leaning her head against my shoulder as I carried her out to Nathan’s SUV.

The air was cold and damp, smelling of wet earth and exhaust.

Nathan drove in silence, his eyes fixed on the highway.

The interstate was crowded with morning commuters, their brake lights glowing like red embers in the fog.

By the time we pulled into the parking garage near the courthouse, my hands were shaking.

Nathan put the car in park and turned off the engine.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone to check the time.