Dylan said to the gray-haired woman at the counter with the milky blue eyes of old age. She wore a light blue jacket that matched her eyes, as did the eye shadow she wore.She tapped away at her keyboard, and he felt his impatience growing with each second. He was pissed at the doctor who wouldn’t pick up his phone and, therefore, the lack of information.“He’s in ICU,” she said.“And?”“I can’t let anyone up there but family,” she said.“I’m his . . . son,” Dylan said, hoping she didn’t catch the hesitation in his voice.The woman glanced over at Regan.“This is my wife,” Dylan said, a little surprised at how easy he spoke the words.For good measure, Regan threaded her arm through his.“Okay,” the woman said, handing them both a badge. “Make sure you identify yourself to the nurse on duty.”They found the elevator up to ICU and watched as the numbers above them changed.“He’s going to be okay,” Regan said, squeezing Dylan’s hand.He nodded, wanting to believe her, but he had a bad feeling in his gut.
