Chapter 15: The Second Curtain

Diana's POV

On Friday at eight-fifty, the chair by the window in the waiting room was empty.

I stood at the desk with my clipboard and looked at it.

At nine I sat down in the chair next to it, because the window seat was his and I wasn't going to take it.

At nine-oh-four the nurse called my name.

"Is the father here today?"

"No," I said.

"Do you want to wait?"

"No."

The technician found the heartbeat right away this time.

It was steady and loud, and I lay there and listened to it with my fists closed.

"Twelve weeks," she said. "Everything looks right on schedule."

"Thank you."

"Your husband doesn't want the printout?"

"He can come and ask me for it."

I took the strip and walked out into the corridor, and I got as far as the elevator before my phone buzzed.

It was Connie.

You okay, honey? Dean's truck is in the ER lot. My husband saw it from the gas pump.

I read it twice.

Then I took the stairs down instead of the elevator, because I didn't trust myself in a small box with a mirror.

The clinic and the hospital were joined by a covered walkway.

I had not set foot on it in twenty-two months.

I went through it now.

The emergency room smelled the same.

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