His eyes filled.

“Very much.”

He bent toward Oliver and smiled with a tenderness that made me think of my mother leaning over my childhood bed.

“You have your mother’s chin,” he murmured to the baby, then looked at me.

“Both of them, actually.”

The nurse took a photograph at my request.

I wanted evidence that something good had happened during the worst night of my life, even if I didn’t yet understand the man in the picture.

When we returned to my room, I found thirty-two missed calls from Vance on my phone.