REMI'S POV
Dax was in the reception area when I came out, standing by the window with the printed ultrasound images in his hand. He looked up when he heard me, and his expression moved through something before settling back into the controlled register — that brief quality of open, and then the doors closing.
"All right?" he said.
"Fine." I picked up my coat. "The baby's perfect."
"I know." He said it quietly. Like perfect was too small a word for what he'd heard in that room and he was using it anyway because he didn't have a better one ready. "What did she want to discuss?"
I looked at him.
In the car I'd been deciding. All through the short walk from the exam room to the lobby I'd been deciding: say it now, or wait for Dr. Okafor's contact to come back, or sit with it alone first,
