The crying came later.

In the room, I only held on to Mark’s hand, and did the arithmetic, over and over, hoping it would come out differently.

It never did.

Chapter 4 — The Porch

I remember going home that evening and sitting on our porch without saying much.

Mark sat beside me, and rested one hand gently on my stomach, and Cecelia moved beneath my skin, and for a while we just sat there, the three of us, in the last of the light.