Then again.

Behind me, my mother-in-law dropped her tea glass, and it shattered against the hardwood floor, and no one moved to clean it up.

I bent down, and I pressed my own cheek directly above my husband’s nose and mouth, and I held my breath, and I waited.

Nothing.

I waited again, longer, every cell in my body straining.

And then I felt it.

A tiny, warm, almost imperceptible puff of air against my skin.