Gerald is out there somewhere. He is probably fixing a fence or checking the irrigation. He is a good man. He deserves a wife who isn’t always looking over her shoulder for the next disaster.

But I am a mother. I don’t know how to stop being one. Even when it is killing me, I don’t know how to let go.

I am going to walk out to the barn now. I am going to talk to him. I don’t know if it will change anything. I don’t know if he will even listen. But the form is still sitting on the counter. The clock is still ticking.

I have until Friday. That is thirty-six hours. I keep wondering if I am already too late to save anyone at all.