Passed. He hated that word so much.
He tapped on Tiffany’s office door.
“Come in,” she called. She didn’t look up from her computer, holding one finger up as she typed one-handed. “Ten seconds.”
Beau leaned against the door frame, letting the wood hold him up. Everything had changed in one short, horrible conversation.
Finding his voice had taken longer than expected; just listening to Erin explain was almost more than he could handle. Aunt Lucy had a little pain in her chest, like someone had put a heavy backpack on her, she had said. She hadn’t wanted Erin to fuss over it. Every time she had gone into the doctor, someone had lectured her about her smoking, and she had been just tired of it, hadn’t want to go in and see no damn emergency room kid, still wet behind the ears, who would
