The tiny laugh that escapes me is pained. She’s been on me about getting a tattoo since we both turned eighteen. I’m all for every person decorating their body however they choose, but needles terrify me, so I always told her there was no chance of that happening.

But you know what? I’d walk out of here, find the nearest tattoo shop, and get a full sleeve right now if that would be enough to save her.

“Brenden,” Grant, her father, says, “why don’t you take this chair? I’ve been sitting for days. My legs could use a stretch.”

I murmur a thanks when he brings it over to me so I can sit by April’s bed.

“Maybe you two should go get something to eat,” April tells her parents.

“Oh, no, we’re not hungry,” Elise says.

“Mom.” April fixes her with the best threatening stare I assume a person could pull off from a hospital bed. “I want to talk to my best friend alone.”

Elise looks torn between giving her daughter whatever she wants and not letting her out of her sight for even a minute. Which is understandable. May is wriggling even harder in her lap now, trying desperately to stand up with her tiny fifteen-month-old legs.

Yes, April named her daughter May. She thought it was funny. And she said if she ever has another girl, she’ll name her June.

Guess that’s not going to happen.

She also chose the name May as a bit of an homage to this small town in New England that she and her parents used to go to every couple years when she was younger. While she’s never had the greatest relationship with her parents and tends to avoid spending time with them if she can, she loved those vacations. The town must be some kind of magical place.

“Come on, Elise,” Grant says, gesturing toward the door. “I can’t remember the last time we ate.”

Elise glances once more at April, frowns, and then stands, cradling May to her chest. She walks around the bed to meet her husband by the door, and May starts flapping her arms in my direction as they get closer, so I wave to her.

“Hey, sweet girl.”

“Bren.”

Despite my mood coming in here, I grin. She can’t really say my name yet, but damn if it doesn’t melt my heart hearing her try.

When Elise takes her past me, she lets out a sharp cry and fusses more in her grandmother’s arms, struggling to get down.

“Oh, no, shhh,” Elise tries to soothe her.

“I can take her,” I say, standing up. “I’m sure the two of you could use a break.”