I grabbed the front of his jacket, shoving him back against the wall. “You put my son in that room,” I snapped, pointing toward the closed door down the hall. “You think you just get to walk back in here like nothing happened?” He didn’t fight back. That almost made it worse.
“I’ve thought about this every day,” I continued, my voice rising despite myself. “Every single day since that night. What I’d say if I saw you again. What I’d do.”
A nurse glanced over from the station, tense but unsure whether to intervene.
“Go ahead,” he said.
The words threw me off.