On the far end of the sidewalk. Rushing in. His eyes wide, his suit half-wrung, like he had just dropped everything to get here.
“What happened?” he barked at the nurse. “Is that my son?!”
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t.
It was Celine who appeared beside him—calm, cold, timed. She placed a hand on Zach’s arm, pulling him back with measured grace.
“How did you know it was coming?” I whispered, my voice shaking.
Celine tilted her head, eyes glinting like glass. “You think we’d let you keep walking him into danger?”
“What…?”
But she was already turning away. Later, in the waiting room, drenched in sweat and dried tears, a social worker came. She looked apologetic, but firm.
“Ms. Arianne Hatton, there’s concern about your ability to ensure Liam’s safety. Given the severity of the incident, and the pending custody petition, the court has ruled for a temporary emergency transfer.”
“What do you mean?” My throat dried up. “My son is going home with me.”
The social worker shook her head slowly. “No, ma’am. For now, Liam will be released into the custody of his father.”
“No, no, you can’t—this was an accident! I was with him! I was holding his hand!”