“You don’t have to decide what to keep today,” she said.

“I know.” I held a picture of Wyatt asleep in a hospital chair after Piper was born.

His hand rested on the edge of her bassinet.

“I just don’t know what to tell her someday.”

“The truth she can handle at the age she is,” Lena replied.

“And more when she’s older.”

I began keeping a journal, not to create evidence, but to remember the things pain and recovery made easy to lose.

Piper liked strawberries cut into stars.