I turned the hat over in my palms, the acrylic wool stiff and scratchy against my skin.

Behind the left ear flap, three tight knots held the thread where the needle had slipped, and two green stitches were dropped along the bottom band.

“My mother told me that hat came from the hospital nursery in Mercer,” Lily said, staring at the wool in my fingers.

“Did she say who gave it to her?

Did she tell you who knitted it?”

“She said the nurses put it on my head the morning she carried me out to the parking lot,” Lily said.