Two Weeks After Our Baby Died, My 8-Year-Old Whispered, “Mom, She Isn’t Gone—I Saw What Daddy Did at the Hospital”

The jar became a pencil holder.

Normal.

Good.

PART 70 — THE NURSERY DOOR

We eventually converted Melanie’s nursery into a reading room.

Not immediately.

Years later.

The yellow walls stayed.

The shelf stayed.

One photograph remained.