Only then do I realize I have no idea what to say to this boy.
 
 I sink my head into my hands, and I do something I haven’t done since Avery left me.
 
 I fucking cry.
 
 The elevator doors open on the fifth floor, and I pull myself together and walk into the pediatrics wing. Nurses and orderlies are bustling around, and I walk through the wing, eyeing each room number.
 
 500
 
 502
 
 504
 
 Then—
 
 506
 
 The door is cracked, and I peek in. Linda sits in a chair by the bed, but from this angle I can’t see the boy.
 
 I step back.
 
 Avery is right. He doesn’t know me. He has a concussion, and the last thing he needs is some stranger storming into his room.
 
 I wipe the sweat from my brow.
 
 And then I leave.
 
 “What do you mean you just left?” Miles demands.
 
 The three of us are at a restaurant having dinner. Rather, they’re having dinner. Even after having burgers, they’re eating again. I can’t. My stomach is rolling with nausea.
 
 “What was I supposed to do? I’m a stranger to the kid. And Avery…” I rake my fingers through my damp hair. Fuck, it’s hot here. Even inside.
 
 “I understand where he’s coming from,” Austin says, poking a piece of broccoli with his fork.
 
 “I fucking don’t,” Miles counters. “That’s your kid in there. And your woman.”
 
 I take a drink of my scotch. It’s a scotch kind of evening. “The kid has a possible brain injury. He doesn’t need a long-lost father showing up.”
 
 How could she keep him from me? After the way we reconnected in Montana… I thought there weren’t any secrets left. They just keep on coming.
 
 “You haven’t heard her side of it, man,” Austin says.
 
 “I’ve heard all I need to hear.” I take another drink. “I would have been there for her. I would have done anything for her and the kid.”
 
 “But she didn’t know that, Chance,” Austin says. “All she knew was that letter.”
 
 “Goddamned letter.” I polish off my scotch and wave to our server, holding up the glass.
 
 He nods and heads to the bar.
 
 “Easy,” Miles says. “You’re not a drunk, Chance.”
 
 I frown. “Tonight may change that.”
 
 The server brings my drink and sets it in front of me.
 
 “He’s cut off,” Miles says to the server.