For a moment, no one spoke.
Amelia stood in the doorway, the smell of disinfectant still clinging to her clothes. Mason sat on the sofa, fingers wrapped around a cooling cup of coffee. Sophie curled beside him with a blanket over her knees, hair loose over her shoulders, a picture of sleepy concern.
The three of them looked at one another across the bright living room.
Mason set the cup down with a small click.
“Where have you been?" he asked.
His voice was low and controlled, but the anger beneath it was thin and sharp as ice.
“Hospital," Amelia said, taking a few steps into the room. “With my mother."
“I know you went to the hospital," he said. “I told you to wait there until I came for you. When I called the ward, they said you'd already left. When I called you, your phone was of
