The gentleness of it put a lump in her throat.

The man feared by executives and bankers across the state, who had just dismantled her family without raising his voice, did not reach for his own son.

He asked.

She lifted Finn carefully and settled him into Bram’s arms, and Bram held the small bundle a little awkwardly, but with a tender, protective reverence that stood in unbearable contrast to the two grandparents who had sworn, an hour ago, never to touch him.

Finn turned his cheek against his father’s chest and sank back into sleep.

Ingrid watched, and something moved in her face that might, from a distance, have looked like regret.