ANNY
I sign my name beneath terms no one else wrote for me.
Two days after the appointment, Oliver sits across from me at the cottage table while my attorney watches through a secure video call. He has already signed the document without changing a word.
No surveillance without consent. No decisions in my name. No interference if I choose to leave.
It is strange that freedom inside my marriage requires a written promise. Stranger still that I am the one holding the pen.
My attorney confirms that copies will remain with both of us, then ends the call.
Oliver closes his folder. “What happens now?”
“I’m going back to Mexico.”
Hope flashes across his face before caution contains it. “Are you sure?”
“No.” I set down the pen. “But Jack expected me to run here. If I stay only because Jac
