“The clerk at the desk said three other pediatric cases came in right before us.

Alan Vance expects my final slide deck in his inbox by seven thirty tomorrow morning.”

“Sit down, Ethan,” I said softly.

“You are pacing like a caged animal, and it is making her fidget.”

“I cannot sit,” he said, turning sharply on his heel near the water fountain.

“If I sit in these vinyl chairs, my eyes will close.

If I fall asleep, I miss the launch window, and Alan does not take personal emergencies into account for quarterly performance reviews.”

“Hold her hand for five minutes,” I said, pointing to the empty seat beside me.