I sat in the back beside Lily.
Every bump in the road hurt.
Every red light felt too long.
Every time Lily made a sound, my heart jumped.
Daniel kept glancing in the rearview mirror.
“You good?”
“No.”
“Need anything?”
“A different life.”
He nodded.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
At his apartment, Daniel had already transformed the guest room. Not well, exactly. My brother was not a decorator. But there was a bassinet, diapers stacked like a fortress, a nursing pillow still in plastic, three kinds of wipes because he panicked in the baby aisle, and a handwritten sign taped above the light switch:
CLAIRE + LILY SAFE ZONE
No Ryan.
No judgment.
No white roses.
I cried.
Daniel looked alarmed.
“Is it bad?”
“No,” I sobbed. “It’s perfect.”
Eli carried the bags in and lingered near the door.
“I’ll head back,” he said.
The thought of him leaving made a panic rise in me so sudden I felt ashamed of it.
