Mark scooped Henry into his arms, and I grabbed my purse and his little blazer from the chair. Margaret was already on her feet, her face gray, keys shaking in her hand. “My car is closest,” she whispered. Twenty relatives stood frozen around the half-eaten cake as we ran out the front door, and Henry’s small whimper followed us down the steps.

In the back seat, I held his hand while Dr. Alvarez’s voice kept echoing in my head. “The scan shows something serious, Rachel, and every minute counts.” Henry’s lips had turned pale. Then Margaret took a turn so sharply that my shoulder hit the door, and she said in a voice I had never heard from her, “I knew it. I knew when I saw how he sat down tonight.” Mark twisted around in the front seat. “Mom, what do you mean you knew?”