Halfway across the country, in New York.
Mr. and Mrs. Goldman waited on tenterhooks in the cold hallway outside the operating room.
Mr. Goldman paced back and forth, his brow furrowed so tightly it bunched into a deep vertical crease.
Mrs. Goldman’s eyes were already bright red, her fingertips bleached pale from squeezing her hands so hard.
She mumbled the same words over and over under her breath, "Don’t worry, Anne will be fine, she has to be fine…"
Louis stood at the very front of the group. His sharp, perfectly tailored suit did nothing to hide the raw tension and worry rolling off him.
He had turned down a make-or-break business meeting to stay right there, and for six whole hours, he hadn’t stepped a foot away.
Before long, the operating room’s red indicator light clicked off
