But Paige stared her down with a defiance I’m certain my mother had never seen from her. “Give me the baby, Mom.”

Her voice dropped an octave, carrying a quiet, undeniable warning. Don’t make a scene.

Lorraine blinked. The social math ran behind her eyes — to refuse would be strange, possessive, impossible to explain. Slowly, reluctantly, she handed Jonah over.

“Well,” she sniffed, adjusting her cardigan. “If you insist. Keep him warm. And Brooke, really — try to pull yourself together today.”

“We’ll be fine,” Paige said, and guided Brooke out, Jonah cradled against her chest.

Their footsteps receded down the stairs. The front door opened, then shut with a heavy metallic click.