“Then you’ll manage without it,” Nathan said firmly. “Julien. Look at me.”
I looked at him.
“Your wife is in labor. Your children are coming. You need to go to the hospital. Right now.”
Right. Hospital. Athena. The babies.
I grabbed my tablet, my phone, and my keys.
“Julien,” Fitz said.
I turned.
He was holding up his phone.
Recording.
“What are you doing?”
“Documenting this moment for posterity.”
“Put the phone down.”
“Absolutely not. This is gold.”
“FITZ.”
“Your eye is twitching so hard I’m concerned it might achieve escape velocity.”
“I’m going to kill you.”
“After the babies are born, please. I want to meet them first.”
I started toward the door. Stopped and then turned back. “The Hendersons. Gabriel, make sure you review the post-operative scans; there was a slight irregularity in the—”
“I’ve got it,” Gabriel assured me.
“And the Chens. Sarah, Mrs. Chen gets anxious about test results, so make sure you—”
“I know,” Sarah said. “Go.”
“And if anyone needs to reach me—”
“We won’t,” Quinton said. “Unless the hospital is literally on fire. And even then, we’ll probably handle it ourselves.”
“But—”
“JULIEN,” all seven of them said in unison. “GO!”
I went.
The drive to the hospital was a blur.
Not because I was driving recklessly. I was a surgeon; I understood the importance of arriving alive. No, it was because my brain was simultaneously trying to process seventeen different thoughts at once.
She’s in labor.
Two days early.
