Catherine took a step back. Her hand went to the counter to steady herself.
“How do you know this?” she whispered.
“Because I was there,” Dr. Hale said. “I’m the baby’s father.”
The nurse behind the counter dropped a clipboard. It clattered on the floor. Nobody picked it up.
Catherine looked at Dr. Hale. Then at Grandma. Then, slowly, at me.
“And you?” she said. “Who are you?”
I opened my mouth. I didn’t know what to say.
“This is Daniel,” Grandma said. “The baby grew up to be my son. His name was Michael. He died twelve years ago.”
She put her hand on my arm.
“Daniel is Michael’s son,” she said. “He’s your mother’s grandson.”
Catherine looked at me for a very long time.
“You have her eyes,” she finally whispered.
Catherine didn’t say anything else. She just turned around and walked down the hallway. She stopped in front of a door with a little plastic number on it.
