I stared at Sylvia’s name on the paper.

I held the invoice in my left hand, my thumb pressing hard against my silver wedding band until the metal felt cold against my skin.

“Ethan,” I said quietly.

He didn’t turn his head.

He was staring straight ahead at the double entrance doors, his right heel bouncing in a fast, relentless rhythm against the linoleum.

I carefully refolded the paper and slipped it back into the front pocket of his messenger bag, exactly where I had found it.

I zipped the pocket closed, reached into the side mesh pouch, and pulled out the blue rubber pacifier.