“He belongs right here.”

Ethan stood frozen in the middle of the aisle, holding his coat in two hands, looking back and forth between his mother and his wife.

I stepped directly into the narrow space between them, cutting off Ethan’s line of sight to his mother.

My left thumb moved to my silver wedding band, pressing the metal firmly against the knuckle of my finger until the skin turned pale.

“June has a fever of 104.1 degrees,” I said, keeping my voice flat and precise, using the exact clinical tone I used when delivering vitals during an emergency intake.