I settled June into the crook of my arm.

She lay heavy against my chest, her skin radiating intense heat through her thin fleece sleeper.

Her tiny fingers clutched my shirt collar, holding tight even as her eyes drifted shut in a restless drowse.

Ethan did not sit down.

He took off his jacket, draped it over the chair beside me, and began pacing a six-foot line across the linoleum floor.

“They said two hours minimum,” Ethan murmured, running both hands through his hair until it stood up in messy tufts.