“The clerk at the desk said three other pediatric cases came in right before us.

Alan Vance expects my final slide deck in his inbox by seven thirty tomorrow morning.”

“Sit down, Ethan,” I said softly.

“You’re pacing like a caged animal, and it’s making her fidget.”

“I can’t sit,” he said, turning sharply on his heel near the water fountain.

“If I sit in these vinyl chairs, my eyes will close.

If I fall asleep, I miss the launch window, and Alan doesn’t factor personal emergencies into quarterly performance reviews.”

“Hold her hand for five minutes,” I said, pointing to the empty seat next to me.