Michael’s face changed immediately.
“No,” he said.
The nurse ignored him.
She stopped directly in front of me, tears filling her eyes.
Then she pressed the folded paper into my hand.
“Before you leave your son here,” she whispered, “you need to know what your husband asked us to keep from you.”
I looked at Michael.
And for the first time that morning…
I saw fear on his face.
I looked down at the folded paper in my hand.
Michael immediately reached for it.
“Emily, don’t.”
That was the moment I knew the nurse had not chased me down over something insignificant.
I stepped back and unfolded the page.
It was a copy of a note from the hospital social worker.
Michael’s name was at the top.
Underneath were details from a conversation he had with them earlier that morning while I was sleeping.
