“Rescuing the poor auditor and playing the heroic long-lost father for the nurses.”

A floor nurse carrying an electronic thermometer paused by the chart desk, her eyes moving to the two men.

“I didn’t come out here to trade insults with you, Julian,” Marcus said, his raspy bedside voice staying flat and steady.

“I came to tell you your son is healthy and sleeping.”

“He’s a Vance,” Julian said, his jaw working as he took half a step closer to the glass.

“He belongs in the family trust charter, not in some county charity intake file.”