“Then you’re done,” Kevin said.

The simple word hung in the air between us, heavy and final.

“She expects an answer from me before tonight,” I said, my hand touching my gown just above the fresh bandages.

“She isn’t getting one,” Kevin said.

He turned his wrist slowly and set my phone face down on the bedside table.

The scrubbed smell of the hallway gave way to the sharp tang of iodine as I pushed open the double doors of the neonatal unit.

Nurse Elena was standing by the tall plastic box where Rosalie lay, her clipboard tucked under one arm.