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The table goes quiet for half a second. I lean back in my chair.

Baines gives a short laugh. “Of course. Within reason.”

“What does that mean?” she says, raising a brow. She looks like a kitten sharpening her claws, ready to play.

“It means not every detail is useful.”

“To whom?”

His smile falters. He says, “To the patient, sometimes. There’s no need to create unnecessary anxiety.”

Maggie tilts her head. “Is the anxiety unnecessary if the information is real?”

The nutritionist suddenly becomes fascinated by her salad.

Baines looks at me, probably expecting rescue. I give him none.

Maggie continues, still pleasant. “I understand there’s a difference between informed care and drowning someone in data. But I don’t think the answer is to make decisions around a person because you’ve decided knowing things will upset her.”

This time, I do smile. Barely, but she sees it. Her eyes cut to mine, pleased and quick.

Then Dr. Lawrence says, “That is a fair concern, but pregnancy also requires trust.”

Maggie nods. “Yes. And trust usually improves when people stop surprising me with new doctors and changed appointments.”

That one is aimed at me, and I deserve it.

The obstetric coordinator shifts in her seat. “I’m sure there were logistical reasons.”

“There usually are,” Maggie says.

“Still, it’s important to remember that everyone here is trying to do what’s best for the pregnancy.”

I see Maggie hear it. Her expression barely changes, but something closes.

That’s when neutrality becomes impossible.

“For Maggie,” I say.

Everyone looks at me.

I keep my voice even. “We are trying to do what is best for Maggie. The pregnancy does not exist outside of her.”

Her face is unreadable for one second, then softer in a way she probably doesn’t mean to allow.

Dr. Lawrence recovers first. “Of course, Dr. Price. That was understood.”

“I should hope so,” I say, and watch the doctor almost spit his water out. Maybe Marcus is right. I’m a little scary to regular people.

Maggie’s mouth curves slightly. Not a full smile, but enough to make my chest tighten. She lifts her glass again and looks at me over the rim. A private little smile.

I look away first because I have to.

Baines, apparently unable to sense danger, tries again. “Naturally, we all respect Margaret’s position, but there are also contractual considerations that⁠—”

“Maggie,” she says.

He blinks. “I’m sorry?”