“I wrote it in her logbook on the passenger seat.”

He walked across the tile, stopped two inches in front of me, and reached out with both hands.

He slid his left palm under June’s legs and spread his right hand across her small upper back, lifting her against his chest with a steady, practiced motion.

June opened her dark eyes, let out a small, yawning sigh, and settled her chin into the crook of his shoulder.

“Dinner’s in forty minutes,” Ethan said, stepping to the stove to light the gas burner under a pot of water.