“My situation is unstable because of what you and Richard did,” I said.

Eleanor ignored my comment entirely, looking back at her son.

“The board has already approved the transfer, Ethan,” Eleanor said. “The transport team is on their way up.”

Ethan took a step closer to her, his tall frame shadowing her completely.

“I am the attending surgeon on this floor,” Ethan said. “I have medical power of attorney over Hannah’s immediate care, and as the biological father, I deny consent.”

Eleanor’s eyes narrowed.

“You haven’t proven paternity, Ethan,” she said. “And until you do, the hospital must act in the best interest of the minors under charitable custody guidelines.”

“I will sign the paternity papers right now,” Ethan said.

“It takes time to process,” Eleanor said. “Time you don’t have. The ambulance is waiting downstairs.”

I looked toward the corner of the room, my heart hammering against my ribs.

On the small plastic chair sat my personal belongings.

The hospital staff had placed my wet, torn work clothes and my old canvas bag in a clear plastic bag labeled *Patient Effects*.