We’d been talking in hushed voices so as not to disturb Cally. It hadn’t occurred to me to take the baby out of the room. “Can we?” I whispered back.

“Why not?” He shrugged and walked out of the room into the hall, holding the baby.

I walked next to him and tucked my hand under his arm. We strolled into the lounge, but there was another family there with toddlers, and I didn’t want any of their germs. “Let’s go down there,” I said, pointing to our second-favorite lounge on the other end of the hall.

A nurse approached us. “Excuse me, may I please see your wristband?” she asked me. “Just a formality.”

“Uh, I don’t have one,” I said. The nurses had put matching ID bracelets on Cally, Hal, and the baby.

“I’m the father,” said Hal, showing his bracelet.

“And I’m Ruth Olson, and this is Baby Girl Olson,” I explained. I tried to pull out the baby’s wristband, but it was tucked deeply inside a well-folded wrap. “Can you help?”

I held the baby while the nurse unwrapped the tight blankets to free the baby’s wrist. She found the bracelet and matched it with Hal’s.

“So you’re the Olsons,” said the nurse, apparently recognizing that we were the intended parents. “Can I ask you to bring her back into the bassinet? It’s okay if you move around, but we like you to have the bassinet with you.”

“Sure,” said Hal.

“No problem,” I said, although it was a big problem, and I didn’t like it at all.

The nurse helped me wrap up the baby again. Tucking her wrist back in, she said, “And be sure to remove the baby’s bracelet before you take her home. It has a chip in there that’ll set off the door alarms if it’s not deactivated.”

“Who deactivates it?” I asked.

“The staff,” said the nurse nonchalantly. “When they give the discharge papers. But every once in a while, someone will forget and—” The nurse made a gesture indicating alarms going off.

“Sheesh,” I said, imagining that.

“Come on, honey,” Hal said, shepherding me away.

“I hate this place,” I said under my breath.