The deputy nodded. The nurse looked relieved to have instructions.

Alan did not. He knew me too well.

For one ugly heartbeat, I pictured Daniel’s face when I found him. I pictured my hands on his collar. I pictured every calm thing I had ever taught young surgeons leaving my body at once.

Then Emily’s fingers moved. Barely. Her eyes opened.

I bent low, close enough that she wouldn’t have to turn her head. “Emily? Baby, I’m here.”

Her lashes fluttered. Her eyes were glassy from the pain medicine, red at the edges, terrified in a way no child should ever have to look at her father.