I took the cold silver handle from her and slid it into the front pocket beside the baby’s spare pacifier.

“We have to be out of the apartment by seven thirty,” I said, adjusting the woven shoulder strap.

“The baby’ll be up by six,” Helen said, rubbing her right wrist as she looked toward the dark windowpane.

“I’ll have his morning bottle ready.”

I folded the top flap of the black canvas bag down over the metal frame, threaded the heavy leather strap through the iron ring, and lined up the silver fasteners.

I snapped the clasps of the baby travel bag shut with a crisp click.