The nurse typed something. “Are you family?”
The word caught in my throat.
Two months ago, the answer would have been simple.
Now it was a legal question, and legally, I was nothing.
“I’m her…” I stopped.
Her what?
Ex-husband sounded too small.
The man who left her sounded too honest.
“I’m Ethan,” I said finally.
The nurse’s expression changed with recognition, but she didn’t say anything.
“I just want to know if she needs anything,” I added. “I know you can’t share information with me. I understand that. But if there’s something I can bring her, or someone I should call—”
The nurse looked past me toward Sophie’s room.
Then she lowered her voice.
“She hasn’t been eating much,” she said. “She likes peppermint tea. Not the cafeteria kind. There’s a shop two blocks over.”
It was such a small piece of information.
And yet it nearly undid me.
