Jack
Quentin coos with his fingers in his mouth as I hold him. He is looking up at me with his big blue eyes that I hope stay that color. He has his mother's nose and my forehead. Mom says he looks just like I did as a baby.
"Are you ready to go?" Dr. Houser steps into the room with a cheerful clap.
I look at him and try not to say what is on my mind. I have been stuck in this hospital at Diamond Lake for two weeks. After I woke up, the doctor insisted I stay for therapy. I had difficulty walking for a few days but felt fine. I wanted to leave sooner, but Dr. Houser felt I needed more time to heal.
"By the look of your face, I am going to say yes," He laughs.
"I just want to go home," I grumble. "Right, Quentin?" I say to my son, who just stares at me. "Can you say, Dada?" I ask wit
