“Don’t come near her.”
Pain crossed his face.
Then anger covered it.
“You can’t keep my daughter from me.”
“No,” Doctor Harris said from behind me. “But tonight, the hospital and police can.”
Andrés looked at him.
“What?”
Doctor Harris folded his arms.
“Emma needs further evaluation. I’m sending her to the children’s hospital for observation and toxicology screening.”
Andrés blinked.
“Hospital?”
“Yes.”
“But she looks fine.”
I stared at him.
“She looks fine?”
He looked at Emma.
Really looked.
For the first time that day, maybe for the first time in weeks.
Her pale cheeks.
Heavy eyelids.
Loose little limbs.
The way she clung to me like I was the last solid thing in the world.
His face changed.
“Emma,” he whispered.
She turned away.
That broke him more than my words had.
