Skye’s sister risked her life to make stem cells for the daughter who died? And Skye wasn’t flipping out? She sat calmly twirling her curls around her index finger. He parked the car in the parking garage next to the red brick hospital. “You don’t have to come in with me.” Skye’s brave words would have been more convincing if her tone hadn’t been that of a determined child trying to persuade herself that she wasn’t frightened. “I’ll wait. It’s no problem—unless you don’t want me to?” Skye flashed him a grateful, uncertain look. “That’s fine—if you don’t mind.” They got out of the car and Mark held out his hand to her. Together they hurried through the hospital revolving glass doors and into the elevator. As the doors closed, Skye clutched Mark’s hand more tightly until they stood outside room 236. She stared at the door and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Mark raised their entwined hands and pressed a kiss to the back of hers. He peeled her fingers away and nudged her forward.
