I turned to the nurse standing near the stroller.
“Could you take them into Consultation Room Three?” I asked.
She nodded. “Of course, Dr. Sinclair.”
Connor frowned. He hated hearing people defer to me. He had always preferred me uncertain.
“This is ridiculous,” he said.
“It’s private,” I replied. “You just asked for that.”
His jaw worked.
For a moment, I thought he would refuse, just to prove that he could. But Melinda stood, slowly, and placed both hands on the stroller handle.
“Connor,” she whispered. “Please.”
Something in her voice unsettled him.
Not guilt.
Fear.
He looked from her to Kenneth, then to me.
“Fine,” he said. “Five minutes.”
We walked down the hallway in a strange procession. Kenneth and I in front. Connor and Melinda behind us with the baby between them. The nurse followed to make sure the path remained clear and no glass had been tracked from the broken bottle.
