The appointment was at ten o’clock on a Wednesday morning.I wore the same thing I would have worn to any other meeting. Dark trousers, a white shirt, the good flats that did not hurt my feet. I had coffee at home first, standing at the kitchen counter, and I did not think too hard about what the morning was. I had learned by then that thinking too hard about things in advance was a way of spending emotional energy on a version of events that had not happened yet. Better to just show up and let it be what it was.My attorney Tobias met me in the lobby of her building at nine fifty. She was a small woman in her late fifties with very straight posture and the particular stillness of someone who had spent thirty years in rooms where composure was the only currency that mattered. She shook my hand, asked if I had eaten, and when I said yes she nodded like she was checking something off a list.“It will take less than twenty minutes,” she said. “Sign, witness, file. Then it’s done.”“Okay,
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