Cameron’s face fell apart. “Where is Sienna?”

“At the hospital,” Robert said. “Where you should have been two days ago.”

Cameron staggered back, gripping the wall for support. “And the baby?”

Wendy came down the stairs carrying a small overnight bag. Her eyes were red, but her voice was ice cold. “Your daughter is alive. No thanks to you.”

His knees nearly gave out. For one terrible second, I think he truly understood that his neglect had almost killed us—not as a dramatic accusation, not as my overreaction, but as a fact.

He reached for his phone. “I need to go there right now.”