For 8 years of marriage, we couldn’t have a child. Then my husband had twins with my own sister. I quietly signed the divorce papers. When he went home, his mom went pale: ‘Wait… She didn’t tell you?’

By early 2028, Northstar Medical had reached a market capitalization of over four hundred million dollars. The Eleanor Grant Center had become a national model for reproductive integrity, and I had been invited to speak at several medical ethics conferences.

I was in my office preparing for a trip to Chicago when my assistant notified me of an incoming call from the Pennsylvania Department of Corrections.

"It’s an automated collect call from the minimum-security facility in Harrisburg, Ms. Grant," she said. "Do you want me to block it?"

I looked at the flashing red line on my desk phone. "No. Patch it through."

The mechanical voice of the prison system played its standard disclaimer before a familiar, rasping voice came through the line.

"Claire?"

"Adrian," I said, my voice empty of any emotion. "This call is being recorded, and I have exactly two minutes before my next meeting."

"I know," he said, his breathing shallow. "I don't have much time. I just... I saw the quarterly report for Northstar in the business section of the library here. You’re doing incredibly well."

"I am."

"I wanted to tell you that I've been assigned to the state vehicle registration audit team," he said, his voice carrying a strange, hollow pride. "I found a three-thousand-dollar discrepancy in a fuel invoice last week. The supervisor gave me a commendation. I thought... I thought you’d appreciate that. I'm finally paying attention to the numbers."

I leaned back in my executive chair, looking at the silver pen on my desk. "The numbers don't need your appreciation, Adrian. They just need to be accurate."

"I'm up for parole in six months," he continued quickly, the desperation leaking back into his tone. "My public defender says my record here is perfect. But the parole board always looks at the victim impact statements. If you... if you could just write a brief letter saying that the corporate restitution has been satisfied and that you don't object to my release..."

"The restitution has been satisfied because your assets were seized and liquidated by the state," I said. "You didn't pay it back; you were stripped of it."

"Please, Claire," he whispered, and I could hear the sound of another inmate talking in the background. "I have nothing. When I get out, I have no place to go. My mother’s house is in a trust managed by your lawyers. She won't even let me sleep on her couch without your permission."

"Evelyn’s home is protected from your debts because it is owned by the Grant trust," I reminded him. "If you move in, her residency status becomes a compliance violation. I will not risk her security to provide a safety net for a convicted felon."

"I'm your husband," he choked out.

"You were my dependent," I corrected. "And your contract was terminated two years ago."

The automated system cut in, announcing thirty seconds remaining.

"Don't call this office again, Adrian," I said. "If you do, I will have David file a formal harassment injunction with your parole officer, which will guarantee you serve the remaining twenty-four months of your sentence."

"Claire—"