Yes, she’d pressed the doctor to give her a way to contact him. Even though Zev had accused her of being pushy

Ayala’s eyes were still bleary from sleep, and she had to squint to check her email.

“Nothing,” she muttered.

“What’s that?” Layale asked from the kitchen, where she was cutting tomatoes for her school lunch.

Ayala shook her head. “I was hoping Uncle Zev would have emailed me about how Bubby’s doing.” She forced a smile. “But I guess no news is good news, huh?”

When she’d spoken to Zev last night, he’d told her the doctors were talking about discharging Mommy from the cardiac care unit today.

“Already?” she’d asked. “That sounds quick. For someone her age? And with her history of high blood pressure? They don’t want to keep her for further monitoring?”

There’d been an edge in Zev’s voice. “The doctors said her initial response to the beta-blockers was good, and there was no need for her to stay longer if she wants to go home. Which she does. Badly.”

His emphasis on the last word had sent the message loud and clear: I’m the one who has to deal with her emotional state, so stop interfering.

But she couldn’t. Not until she was absolutely certain the doctor was making his decisions based on what was best for Mommy’s medical care, and not just because she very vocally preferred her own bed.

“Can I just talk to the doctor myself?”

Zev had let out a loud breath. “Be my guest. I don’t think he’s around anymore, but you have his number, don’t you? Call him.”

Yes, she’d pressed the doctor to give her a way to contact him. Even though Zev had accused her of being pushy.