My sister Romina opened her front door two days later.

I was still wearing the hospital band under my sleeve, holding the baby’s carrier.

She didn’t ask a single question.

She took the carrier out of my hand, wrapped both arms around me, and let me fall apart on her living room couch.

My daughters were upstairs in her guest room, and they came down one at a time with questions I had no idea how to answer.

Leandra, my eldest, wanted to know if Dad was on his way.