I walked back down the hallway to check on the living room couch.

Lily was still breathing softly under the blanket.

I was pouring tap water at the kitchen sink when I heard Lily crying.

It wasn’t her tired cry or her hungry cry.

It was a sharp, high wail that made me drop the glass into the steel basin.

I ran into the living room and found her kneeling on the hardwood floor near the dining table.

She had both hands pressed hard against her stomach.