Twenty – NineScott Meyers got the bum's rush. On tip-toes, moving backwards, straining for a last glimpse of his wife, Theresa, over the nurse's shoulder, Meyers was ushered from Delivery Room Four. “We'll let you back in a few minutes,” Virginia Silas, the nurse, the sergeant at arms in scrubs said as she maneuvered the nervous father-to-be. “We need to get her ready for the doctor. We'll get you a cup of coffee at the nurses' station.” Silas didn't argue with patients or their significant others. She did her job, friendly but firmly, leaving the door to the delivery room ajar. She'd be back in a flash. Their steps echoed as they disappeared down the hall.
Delivery Room Three, across the hall, was dark and unused but not unoccupied. The door inched silently open and the occupant listened
