The nerves were building.
He’d picked up the vial from the pharmacy the day before. It was a tiny bottle in a small box, and he clutched it in a sweaty hand as he waited for his name to be called. He was so close that he could feel it. The probable end. The possible last step.
Beatriz had another set of jabs at the same time with the childcare nurse, so Andreas was going it alone, but he didn’t mind. In a way, he preferred it. He was still so reluctant to share those huge moments with anyone, so prone to wanting to shut them away in the back of his head to be forgotten once they were over.
And soon, it would be over.
“Beatriz Orosa?”
And it wasn’t the only thing.