"Respiratory, protein, waste, heart," the nurse said, indicating the various points, all of which appeared crudely connected and held in place by swatches of white tape.
"How is she?"
"We're keeping a close eye on her. It was a difficult birth, but she seems like a fighter."
"Hang in there, little girl," Peter whispered.
"I'm afraid we have to leave now. We need to be extremely careful about exposure."
Peter and nodded, and through his paper face mask he kissed his gloved fingers and touched the plastic shell. He straightened and followed the nurse out of the room. Pulling himself free of the green scrub outfit, he glanced one last time back through the glass window into the neonatal room. He collected the knapsack and pushed through the doors.
Sitting outside the room in one of the hard plastic waiting chairs, was Kate.
Without a word she stood and caught him in her arms. She held him for a moment, stiffly, then guided him to the seat beside her.
"Jesus, Kate. How did you - ?"
"I called Peggy. She told me you were here."