Dr. Patel’s face did not move.
“We called you repeatedly.”
“My phone died.”
The lie sounded small in the sterile room.
Dr. Patel looked down at the folder, then back up.
“Your phone went straight to voicemail after several unanswered calls.”
Mark opened his mouth, then closed it.
Madison’s perfume still clung faintly to his sleeve.
He folded his arms, trying to hide the scent from the air itself.
“How is Emily?” he asked.
“She survived.”
The simplicity of the answer frightened him more than any dramatic explanation could have.
“And the babies?”
Dr. Patel breathed in.
“Grace and Lily are stable.”
Mark gripped the edge of the table.
Grace.
Lily.
Names he had not known.
“And Baby C?”
Dr. Patel’s eyes changed.
“Hope required more intervention. She was without strong oxygen flow longer than her sisters. She has been monitored closely.”
“Hope,” Mark repeated.
His voice cracked around the name.
