He stood there for several seconds, his breathing loud and uneven in the small room, before the heavy paper slid back into his pocket.
The door clicked shut behind him, the latch catching with a metallic scrape that made Noah stir in his sleep.
By ten o’clock, the breakfast tray sat untouched on the bedside table, the dry toast turning cold under a plastic dome.
Nurse Clara, a woman with quiet eyes and thick rubber-soled shoes, checked the plastic line of my IV bag, her fingers moving with a gentle rhythm.
“Your pressure is still a bit high,” Clara said, adjusting the plastic clip on the tubing. “We want those numbers down before we talk about discharging you on Thursday.”
“How are the other two?” I asked, looking toward the twin bassinets near the window.
“Leo is eating like a champion, and Samuel is sleeping through the noise,” she said, giving me a small, reassuring smile. “You did the hard part, dear. Now you just have to let us take care of you.”
She picked up the empty water pitcher from the bedside table, her brow furrowing slightly as she checked the dry erase board on the wall.
“Did your sister-in-law find you earlier?” Clara asked, her hand resting on the door handle.
“My sister-in-law lives in Boston,” I said. “She isn’t coming until next month.”
“An elegant woman was down at the reception desk at eight,” Clara said, tapping her fingers against the plastic pitcher. “Tall, dark hair, very expensive coat. She was asking which room Evelyn Ashford was in, but she didn’t want to use the public directory.”
“Did she leave a card?” I asked, my fingers returning to my collarbone.
“No,” Clara said. “When the clerk asked for her name, she just said she would come back during afternoon visiting hours.”
