I held June’s shoulder, feeling the intense heat radiating through her cotton sleeper.

Sylvia stepped within two feet of the table, but her gaze stayed fixed entirely on Ethan’s face.

She had not looked down at June’s flushed cheeks once since entering the room.

Her hands stayed draped over her heavy handbag strap, never reaching out to touch June’s arm or forehead.

“Ethan needs at least four hours of undisturbed rest before eight in the morning,” Sylvia said to me.

“His brain cannot function on zero sleep.”