As I turned the corner near the alcove where the old payphones used to hang, I heard Ethan talking.

His voice was low, quick, and urgent, echoing softly off the ceramic wall tiles.

I stopped near the drinking fountain, staying behind the edge of the wall.

“I’m telling you I can’t handle sitting here all night,” Ethan was saying into his phone.

“It’s almost two in the morning, the wait is over two hours, and I’m completely wiped out.”

I shifted June to my left arm, pressing her warm forehead against my neck.