We arrive at the hospital, and he parks the car while I go to the main reception area. The receptionist takes far too long to find out where Layla is, and my agitation is at its max. She’s aware of my anger as I tower over her; her gaze keeps diverting to me, and her eyes widen.

"Got her." There’s relief in her voice, but I don’t feel it.

My father arrives at my side when we’re motioned toward a waiting room. The minute I step in, I want to leave. Evelyn ...