At the house, the nursery smelled like clean cotton and the lavender sachet Hannah’s sister had tucked into a drawer.

The star mobile turned slowly above the crib.

I stood in the doorway and remembered Lucas leaning in that same place before the birth, refusing to enter.

This time he crossed the threshold carrying Hope’s bag and placed it beside the dresser.

Mason approached with the giraffe in both hands.

“Is she old enough for it?”

“She can have it nearby when an adult is watching,” Hannah said.

“We keep her sleep space clear.”