“That is a question you may not be able to answer tonight,” he said.

“What matters now is that the concerns are being evaluated and Noah is receiving care.”

It wasn’t forgiveness.

I hadn’t asked a doctor to forgive me.

It was a useful limit on a question that had begun occupying every spare minute.

I put the page with the clinical information and returned to the room.

Noah was asleep with one sleeve turned inside out.

I left it alone.