Kellan saw his brother standing beside the annex doors and said his name loudly enough to stop the line.
Theo turned with a pencil in his hand. A woman pushing a treatment trolley halted behind him, unable to pass the space Kellan had just occupied. Two relatives carrying bags stopped after her. For a moment everyone waited for the brothers to finish whatever had become more important than moving.
“You’re coming out,” Kellan said.
Theo looked from him to the trolley. “Move left.”
“I mean it.”
“So do I. You’re blocking the door.”
The woman with the trolley tried to turn its front wheels. One caught the mat edge. Kellan stepped aside at last, pulled the corner free and let her through. When he faced Theo again, the anger had become more difficult to separate from fear.
“You’re supposed to be resting.”
