The maternity ward was quieter than I expected, sunlight slipping through narrow windows, reflecting off polished tile floors. Nurses moved with efficient calm. Visitors whispered. Balloons bobbed outside room doors.
I approached the reception desk.
“Hi, I’m here for Sierra Adams,” I said brightly.
The receptionist smiled and pointed down the corridor.
“Room 312.”
My heels tapped softly as I walked.
And then I heard it.
Kevin’s voice.