His voice was low, cold, and steady.

“Get out of my way, Daniel,” I said.

The judge looked down from her bench, her eyes sharp.

“Let them go, Mr. Carter,” the judge said. “We are in recess.”

Daniel stepped aside, his fingers twitching against his thighs.

The ambulance ride was a blur of red lights flashing against wet asphalt.

The boys sat opposite me, their knees touching mine in the cramped vehicle.

The hospital smell hit me the moment the sliding glass doors swung open.

It was a mix of bleach, old floor wax, and rubbing alcohol.

They wheeled my mother through the double doors of the emergency wing.

A nurse pointed us toward a waiting room with orange plastic chairs and a humming vending machine.

The clock on the wall ticked with a heavy, metallic click.

Outside, rain began to beat against the thick glass windows.

I held Lucas and Mason close, my arms wrapped around their small shoulders.

“Is Grandma going to die?” Mason whispered, his thumb in his mouth.

“No,” I said, though my voice shook. “She is strong, Mason.”