Still holding the ultrasound picture in my pocket, I looked from the photographs back into Ethan’s furious eyes. “What is this?” I whispered.

His expression hardened, but beneath the anger I saw something unsteady, almost frightened. “You tell me.”

I bent to gather the photographs, my fingers clumsy with disbelief. Daniel and me leaving the hospital after a twelve-hour shift. Daniel passing me a coffee.

Daniel touching my shoulder in the parking garage while I cried after losing a patient. Pieces of ordinary life, captured from across streets, through windows, behind tinted glass.

“I work with Daniel,” I said. “You know that.”

“I know what these look like.”