I carried June upstairs to her nursery without removing my wet winter coat, laid her down gently on her back inside the crib, and pulled the cellular cotton blanket up over her tiny chest.

She did not open her eyes, giving only a faint, weary sigh as her head settled into the mattress.

Downstairs, the kitchen fluorescent lights hummed against the white ceiling.

Ethan sat at the wooden kitchen table with his leather messenger bag pulled tight against his ribs, his wool overcoat still buttoned up to his chin.

Rainwater dripped from his shoe soles onto the linoleum floor.

I walked over to the table, took the brown glass bottle of liquid amoxicillin out of my coat pocket, and set it directly in front of him alongside the yellow discharge papers from Dr.