The Photograph of a Newborn in a Yellow Knitted Hat

I waited for Lily to step into the narrow hall, then shut the heavy wooden door behind us and threw the brass deadbolt.

I walked into the living room and switched on the brass floor lamp next to the sofa.

The weak afternoon light coming through the blinds barely reached the middle of the woven rug.

Lily sat carefully on the edge of the cushion.

I sat down beside her on the couch, opened the torn flap of the envelope, and tipped it upside down over my lap.

A single glossy photograph slid out and landed face up on the glass coffee table.