At 10:42 a.m., while Ethan Caldwell fought for his life in a private cardiac unit two floors above, a hospital administrator named Paul Dearing entered Room 417 with a clipboard.
Denise followed him, lips pressed thin.
“Girls,” Paul said, using the soft voice adults used when they were about to hurt you politely. “Is Mrs. Alvarez coming today?”
“She’s working,” Lily said. “She comes at eleven.”
“I see.” He glanced at Rachel, then at his papers. “We need to speak with a responsible adult about your mother’s care.”
Emma straightened. “We’re responsible.”
Paul looked uncomfortable.
“I’m sure you are, sweetheart, but there are decisions that children can’t make.”
Lily slid off her chair.
“Are you taking Mom away?”
Continue on the next page:
