I recited the dates while pressing my palms flat on my knees.

Emma sat on the edge of the exam table, twisting her left sock around her toes.

She was watching the nurses take supplies out of a glass cabinet.

Kara scrolled down her screen.

The plastic keys clicked sharply under her fingernails.

“Okay, Emma is five,” Kara said.

“Is she allergic to any medications?”

“Emma’s four years old,” I said.