“And June is his daughter.”

“She is your baby,” Sylvia declared loudly, pointing one gloved finger at my chest.

“A mother stays with a sick infant.

A father who has a major corporate presentation in six hours needs rest.”

An older woman sitting two rows down pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders and stared at Sylvia.

Sylvia ignored her completely.

She turned back to Ethan and grabbed the sleeve of his sweater, tugging him upward.

“Stand up, Ethan,” Sylvia commanded.