I had spent sixteen years interpreting his moods.

I knew the warning beneath his quiet voice.

But the monitors beside Sadie’s bed were making a steady, delicate sound, and suddenly his moods seemed very small.

“She needed treatment,” I said.

Curtis noticed the chart.

“You did a scan?

Without discussing the cost?”

“Yes,” I answered.

For the first time, he looked directly at Sadie.

“Did you tell them about the clinic?”

The question escaped so quickly he couldn’t take it back.

Sadie flinched.

Dr. Raman’s expression tightened. “Which clinic, Mr. Dunleavy?”

“Some place that checked her stomach.