It's not until a little while later, when they've told me I'm being discharged and I'm changing back into my normal clothes behind a curtain, that I feel the need to say anything. Maybe because, for the moment anyway, I can't see his face. I can hear him pacing - he hasn't stopped fidgeting since the ultrasound.

My clothes are stiff from the ocean. I pull my dress back down my body, exhaling. "What happens now?"

On the other side of the curtain, the pacing stops. ...