"I can't believe I'm doing this," Emma muttered, walking carefully through the Seattle hospital corridors with three-week-old Frankie strapped to her chest in a carrier.
Beside her, Katie pushed Charlotte in a stroller, having insisted on coming along for the trip. "Someone needs to help with the babies while you visit Jack," she'd reasoned practically.
The flight from Boston had been Frankie's first, and he'd slept through most of it, much to Emma's relief. Charlotte, now four months old and more alert, had charmed the flight attendants with her bright eyes and ready smiles.
"Room 314," Emma said, checking the hospital directory. "This way."
They found Jack propped against pillows, his left leg in a cast and his face bearing the colorful evidence of his encounter with a guardrail. But
