He set down his fork and looked at me, and then at Liam, and his easy dinner-party warmth had drained entirely away.

“A hundred and four,” he repeated slowly.

“In a four-month-old.” “What do you mean, Paige,” Sarah asked carefully, her eyes moving between Liam and me, “that he hasn’t asked?” I did not embellish it.

I did not need to.

“I mean that Liam walked out of the emergency room,” I said, “before the doctor had even evaluated our daughter.

He had his presentation in the morning, and he needed his sleep.” “He had a critical work presentation!” Brenda burst in from the head of the table, unable to stop herself, defending him on instinct.

“I picked him up myself so that he could rest properly at my house.