Chapter 11
Marcus released my hand.
“Come in,” he said.
David stepped inside.
“The surgical team is looking for you. They want to review the consent forms again.”
Marcus nodded.
“I’ll be there.”
David’s gaze moved between us.
“I’m glad you found each other.”
I stood.
“David.”
He straightened.
“I’m still angry with you.”
“I know.”
“But thank you for bringing me here.”
His eyes lowered.
“You’re welcome.”
Marcus looked at him.
“You should have told her.”
David absorbed the words.
“Yes,” he said. “I should have.”
There was no argument.
No defense.
Just an acknowledgment that came too late to undo anything, but perhaps early enough to prevent another silence.
We walked together toward the surgical wing.
Marcus moved slowly, and I noticed for the first time how carefully he placed his feet. I noticed the small things I had missed: the way he flexed his right fingers before opening a door, the way he kept his arm close to his body, the way he paused when the pain reached his neck.
At the end of the corridor, Emily called.
I had forgotten the phone was in my coat pocket.
Her name glowed across the screen.
I answered.
“Hi, sweetheart.”
“Mom, are you at the hospital?”
Her voice carried the bright concern of a child who had learned that mothers sometimes answered the phone differently when they were worried.
“Yes,” I said. “I came to see Dad.”
“Is he there?”
I looked at Marcus.
He had stopped beside me.
“Yes.”
“Can I talk to him?”
Marcus’s eyes widened.
I held out the phone.
He took it.
“Hi, Em.”
A pause.
Then his face softened.
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
Another pause.
“No, I didn’t forget your science project.”
I watched him listen.
The faint smile on his face slowly disappeared.
“What do you mean, Mom said I might need to help you tomorrow?”
I looked at him.
He looked back at me.
The color drained from his face—not with fear this time, but with confusion.
“Claire,” he said quietly, covering the phone with his hand. “What did you tell her?”
“Nothing.”
His expression changed.
He uncovered the phone.
“Emily, sweetheart, give me a minute, okay? I love you.”
He ended the call.
For a moment, the hallway seemed to tilt beneath us.
“What did she mean?” I asked.
Marcus stared at the screen.
“I don’t know.”
David had gone still beside us.
Dr. Patel appeared at the far end of the corridor, carrying a file. When she saw our faces, she quickened her pace.