The attorney answered honestly.
"That depends on what both parents agree to and what the court determines."
Karen nodded.
She didn't want revenge.
She wanted boundaries.
Meanwhile, Robert began attending counseling.
He learned that regret was not the same thing as accountability.
He wanted forgiveness immediately.
He wanted everyone to understand that he was ashamed.
But every counselor he spoke to told him the same thing.
He couldn't control the timeline of other people's healing.
Sophie stopped speaking to him for three weeks.
Then, unexpectedly, she called.
"Can we meet?"
Robert agreed.
They met at a quiet café.
Sophie arrived first.
She looked older.
Not physically.
Something else.
The innocence in her expression was gone.
Robert sat across from her.
"How are you?"
"Bad."
He nodded.
"Me too."
"Good."
Robert almost smiled.
Almost.
"I deserve that."
Sophie looked down.
"I've been thinking."
"About what?"
"About Megan."
Robert waited.
"I don't know her well."
"No."
"But she was around when I was younger."
"Yes."
"I remember her helping me with homework."
Robert nodded.
Sophie looked at him.
"She wasn't the enemy."
"No."
"You made her think Mom was leaving."
Robert swallowed.
"Yes."
"You made Mom think everything was normal."
"Yes."
"You lied to everyone."
Robert couldn't escape it.
"Yes."
Sophie leaned back.
"Why?"
He struggled for an answer.
Because he was lonely.
Because he was selfish.
Because he wanted attention.
Because he enjoyed being wanted.
Because he was afraid of aging.
Because he wanted two lives at once.
None of those answers sounded acceptable.
Finally he said:
"I wanted something without having to pay the price for it."
Sophie looked at him for a long time.
"That's probably the most honest thing you've said."
Robert nodded.
She didn't forgive him.
But she stayed.
That was the beginning of something different.
Not restoration.
Not yet.
Just contact.
Meanwhile, Megan's pregnancy progressed.
Karen occasionally checked on her.
Their relationship was complicated.
They were not friends.
But neither woman wanted the child to inherit the bitterness of the adults.
One evening, Megan showed Karen a tiny pair of blue socks.
Karen smiled despite herself.
"They're beautiful."
Megan laughed nervously.
"I don't even know why I bought them."
"Because you're a mother."
Megan touched her stomach.
"That's still strange to hear."
Karen understood.
"You'll get used to it."
Megan looked at her.
"Do you think he'll be a good father?"
Karen hesitated.
"I don't know."
Megan nodded.
"That's fair."
Karen looked at the socks.
"But I think he can learn to be one."
It was the first hopeful thing she had said about Robert in months.
The neighborhood had learned about the mailbox incident quickly.
At first, the story was wrong.
People said Vanessa had been stealing mail.
Someone claimed she had been obsessed with Robert.
Another person said she had tried to expose an affair.
Rumors multiplied.
Then the truth came out.
A neighbor had recorded part of the confrontation.
The video showed Vanessa taking an envelope.
But it also showed what happened afterward.
The story changed.
Karen refused to discuss it publicly.
Sophie refused interviews from anyone who contacted her.
Robert stayed home.
Vanessa ignored the gossip.
Megan focused on the pregnancy.
Eventually, the neighborhood moved on.
But Robert couldn't.
Every time he walked toward the mailbox, he remembered the morning.
The white envelope.
Sophie barefoot on the porch.
Karen's face.
Vanessa's anger.
He began collecting the mail himself.
Not because he was afraid.
Because he had learned what an ordinary mailbox could hold.
Bills.
Advertisements.
Birthday cards.
And sometimes, consequences.
Months later, Megan went into labor.
Karen received the message from Vanessa.
She drove to the hospital.
Robert arrived separately.
For a while, the four adults sat in the waiting area.
Robert looked terrified.
Sophie sat beside Karen.
Vanessa paced.
Nobody spoke.
Finally, a nurse appeared.
"It's a boy."
Robert stood.
"Is Megan okay?"
"She's doing well."