“You helped me lie to my wife,” Ethan said, holding his ground without stepping back.

“And I let you do it.”

Sylvia stared at him, her heavy leather handbag slipping an inch down her shoulder before she caught it.

“You need to walk out those doors right now,” Ethan said, pointing toward the lit hallway outside Exam Room 4.

“Ethan,” Sylvia said, her voice dropping into an urgent, desperate pitch.

“Think about your morning.

Think about Alan Vance and your job.”

“Get out, Mom,” Ethan said, his words falling like iron weights into the space between them.