But he reached out and touched my arm.

“The marshals confirmed the arrest,” he said.

“Yes,” I said, sitting down in the chair opposite him.

“Nolan is in custody.”

The lead attorney, a woman named Sarah Vance, slid a document toward me.

“We have filed the emergency motion to suspend Nolan’s parental rights,” she said.

“But we need to prepare for the deposition next week.”

“They’re going to try to use your medical history, Evelyn.”

“I know,” I said.

“He told me he has emails from my postpartum period.”

Sarah nodded, her expression unchanging.

“He does,” she said.

“His lawyer has already sent a discovery request for your mental health records from the hospital.”

“They’re going to argue that you signed the documents willingly, and that you are now suffering from paranoia.”

I reached into my bag and pulled out a small black USB drive.

I placed it on the polished wood of the table.

It looked very small in the middle of the vast boardroom.

“What is that?” my father asked.

“This is the digital trail,” I said.