“A doctor will see you shortly.”

I took the yellow triage wristband and crouched slightly to snap it securely around June’s tiny left ankle.

June gave a weak, breathless whimpering cry that barely registered across the quiet lobby counter.

Behind us, Ethan stopped pacing and walked back toward the hallway leading into the main waiting room.

He reached into his coat pocket, pulled his phone out halfway, and tapped the screen button to check his notifications.

“June Donnelly?” a pediatric triage nurse called out from the door frame of exam room three.