“Is there a bad backup tonight?” Ethan asked over my shoulder, stepping toward the glass partition.

“We really need to know how long this whole process is going to take.”

The nurse glanced at Ethan’s nervous expression, then looked directly back at June resting against my chest.

“We evaluate infant patients based strictly on clinical severity, sir,” she said in a calm, flat voice.

She reached through the lower slot in the sliding window and handed me the yellow band along with a blue clip.

“Attach this around her wrist or ankle, please,” the nurse said.