Chapter 21: Poppy's Door

Finnegan's POV

I drove to Mercy Hospital because it was the only place I knew to go.

The new wing stood at the back of the campus, four floors of glass and scaffolding with a tarp over the entrance.

I had a key, because the foundation had raised the money for the wing.

Inside it smelled of fresh paint and cut wood, and the corridors were dark except for the green exit signs.

I walked to the end of the second floor, where the family lounge had its name over the frame.

POPPY, in brushed steel, small enough to miss.

I put my hand flat on the wall beside it.

Three years ago I stood in a room like this one.

A doctor told me that a woman I loved had done everything right, and it hadn't mattered.

Tonight I had stood at the end of a hallway and watched a man put his hands on Samantha's face.

I knew what that meant.

A woman carrying a man's child is pulled toward him, whatever he has done.

She hears the baby's heartbeat and she hears his voice, and in the end she goes home.

I couldn't blame her for it.

I had already decided, driving, that I wouldn't try to stop her.

I would shake his hand if I had to.

I would bring the high chair up the porch steps myself.

"You left before the good part," said a voice behind me.

I turned.

Joanna stood at the head of the corridor in her good dress.

She had her shoes in one hand and a canapé wrapped in a napkin in the other.

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