Monday, April 23rd
The sun was up when Patrick stopped at the hospital. Anthony stood in front of the entrance, a cigarette clamped between his lips and a year's worth of worry etched into his forehead.
Patrick drew up short and the two friends stared at one another. There was only one reason they'd both be there, and Patrick wasn't ready to talk about it.
As if he sensed it, Anthony said, "She's going to be all right." His voice was brittle; angry.
Patrick pushed the words out because he had to know. "The baby?"
"Is premature, but they think it will live."
Patrick breathed a sigh of relief. At least one thing hadn't gone horribly wrong. With nothing else to say, he turned on his heel, but Anthony wasn't done.
"What the f**k were you thinking? Leaving her alone in the park to get at
