He carried me through the sliding glass doors, the cool, sterile air-conditioned air of the hospital hitting us instantly.

The smell of rubbing alcohol and bleach replaced the humid summer heat.

The lobby was a blur of bright lights, beige tiles, and staring faces.

The nurse carrying Rowan was already disappearing through a set of heavy double doors that read *No Admittance*.

“Wait!” I cried out, reaching my arm toward the closing doors. “I need to go with him!”

A security guard stepped forward, but Arthur shook his head.

“She’s the mother,” Arthur told the guard, his voice leaving no room for argument. “She just gave birth three days ago. She cannot walk.”

A receptionist came running from behind the desk with a wheelchair.

Arthur lowered me gently into the vinyl seat, and my body instantly collapsed inward, my forehead resting on my knees.

My hospital gown from three days ago was probably still in my hamper at home, and I was wearing a stained t-shirt and sweatpants.

I felt completely exposed, broken, and empty.

“Where is my baby?” I wept, looking up at the nurse who had appeared with a clipboard.