His hair stuck up on one side where he’d tried to smooth it down with wet fingers in the car. The Rolex caught the fluorescent light, gleaming obscenely against his pale wrist.
Jane stumbled in behind him, still wearing last night’s evening gown. The silk dragged on the floor, stained along the hem.
She reeked of gin and cigarette smoke.
“Where are they?”
Jane’s voice cracked across the waiting room. Heads turned.
“Where are my babies?”
A security guard stepped forward, hand raised.
“Ma’am, you’ll need to—”
“I’m their mother.”
She lunged toward the nurse’s station, heels clicking erratically.
“Someone tell me where my children are right now.”
Joshua spotted me standing near the hallway entrance.
For a moment, our eyes met.
I saw him calculate, watched his expression shift from panic to something sharper.
He straightened his jacket and walked toward me with the confident stride of a man used to getting what he wanted.
“Willow.”
He kept his voice low, reasonable. The voice he used when he needed something.
“Thank God you were there. This whole thing—it’s a terrible misunderstanding.”
I didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
He stepped closer, dropping his voice to a whisper.
“I know how hard nursing school was for you. Those loans… what are you carrying now? Sixty thousand? Seventy?”
His breath smelled like alcohol and desperation.
“I’ll pay them off. All of them. Today. Just tell the police this was an accident.”
My hands were shaking.
I pressed them against my sides, felt the rough fabric of my scrubs ground me.
“You locked your children outside in twenty-three-degree weather.”
“We didn’t lock them. The smart lock malfunctioned.”
“You know how technology is.”
His smile was practiced, polished.
“Think about it, Willow. No more debt. You could finally breathe.”
“No.”
The word came out flat. Final.
His smile evaporated.
“You’re making a mistake.”
“The only mistake was letting you near those kids for eleven years.”
His hand shot out and gripped my arm, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.
“Listen to me very carefully. I will hire the best attorney in this state. I will strip that nursing license right off your wall. You’ll never work in healthcare again. You’ll—”
“Joshua.”
Jane appeared at his elbow, her voice taking on that practiced sweetness she used when she wanted something.
“Maybe Willow just needs time to think about what’s best for the children. A stable home. Their own rooms. Everything they’re used to.”
She looked at me with eyes that were calculating beneath the smudged makeup.
“You live in a duplex, right? How many bedrooms?”
Something cold and sharp crystallized in my chest.
I met her gaze and watched her confidence flicker.
“One,” I said. “But it’s warmer than your garage.”
Joshua’s face went purple.
“You self-righteous—”
He shoved me. Hard.
I stumbled backward, my hip hitting the corner of a metal medical cart. The impact sent instruments clattering across the linoleum.
Pain exploded through my elbow as I caught myself against the wall, my palms scraping against the rough concrete.
My thick winter coat absorbed some of the blow, but my arm throbbed where I’d connected with the cart’s edge.
“Don’t touch her.”
The voice was small but fierce.
Dean stood—actually stood—gripping the arms of his wheelchair, his bandaged feet bare against the footrests.
His face was white with pain, but his eyes burned.
“Don’t you ever touch her.”
His voice cracked, rising to a scream.
“You left us. You left us to die, and you don’t even care.”
Jane stared at her son like she’d never seen him before.
Her mouth opened, closed.
No sound came out.
“Security!”
The nurse at the station was already on the phone.
“We need security to the ER lobby immediately.”
Two guards appeared within seconds.
The police received the call.
Five minutes later, Officer Jasper appeared on the scene.
Joshua tried to back away, hands raised, already shifting into his reasonable-man persona.
“This is a family matter. My sister is clearly upset and making—”
“Turn around.”
Jasper’s voice was ice.
“Hands behind your back.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I barely—”
“I said turn around.”
Jasper pulled out his handcuffs.
“You’re under arrest for assault and disorderly conduct.”
The metal clicked around Joshua’s wrists with a sound that echoed through the silent lobby.
His face went from purple to gray.
Jane started crying—real tears this time, or a convincing approximation.
“This is insane. We came here worried about our children and she’s trying to frame us.”
Jasper turned to her, his expression unchanging.
“Jane Hart, you’re also under arrest for child endangerment and disorderly conduct.”
He nodded to another officer who’d appeared.
“Read them their rights.”
I stayed against the wall, cradling my scraped palm.
