Addie lets go.
You stay.
Even after Lily is rushed behind double doors. Even after another nurse cleans the cuts on Addie’s feet and learns quickly not to fuss. Even after an administrator with a pleasant voice and sharp eyes asks if you are the father, uncle, guardian, or reporting party. You almost say none of the above, but the phrase sounds grotesque under the circumstances, like some bureaucratic species classification.
“I’m the one who found them,” you say. “And I’m not leaving.”
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