I reached down and touched Ethan’s tiny, warm hand.

His fingers curled around my thumb, his grip surprisingly strong.

“I won’t let her take him, Thomas,” I said.

“She won’t,” Thomas said. “Not while I’m breathing.”

The door to the hospital room clicked.

We both froze.

The door swung open slowly.

A nurse walked in, carrying a small plastic cup with my afternoon medication.

“Mrs. Parker?” she said, looking between Thomas and me. “Are you feeling alright? Your heart rate monitor just spiked.”

“I’m fine,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “Just a little tired.”

“You need to rest,” the nurse said, setting the cup on the bedside table. “And you have a visitor downstairs. The front desk called up.”

My heart thudded against my ribs.

“Is it my sister, Laura?” I asked.

“No,” the nurse said, looking at her clipboard. “It’s a Mr. Ryan Parker. He says he’s here to pick up his son.”

The air in the room grew instantly cold.

Thomas stood up, his large frame blocking the nurse’s view of the documents on the table.