The leash.
You know what she’s like.
He lowered his gaze.
My stomach twisted.
Doctor Harris did not move.
“I need consent to treat Emma. Her mother has already given it.”
Diane stepped forward.
“I am her grandmother.”
The doctor looked at her coldly.
“That gives you no medical authority.”
Andrés said, “I’m her father.”
“Then act like it,” I said.
The words came out before I could stop them.
Everyone turned toward me.
I was standing in the hallway with Emma in my arms, my daughter’s face hidden against my neck.
I had not brushed my hair.
There was zucchini juice on my sleeve.
My hands were shaking.
But my voice did not break.
“She is four years old,” I said. “She told me your mother has been giving her pills so she won’t be bad. And you came here angry at me.”
Andrés’s face reddened.
