down.”
He looked at them.
They were.
He turned them around.
“I am going to blame the hospital.”
“That seems fair.”
He bent over the bassinet and counted the bracelets as if they were inventory.
“Luna and Leo.”
“Correct.”
“I passed.”
“You barely passed.”
He pulled a chair close to me.
“Can I hold Leo?”
I nodded.
Daniel lifted him carefully and sat down.
For a few minutes, nobody mentioned Vivian, papers, family arrangements, or who belonged where.
There was only Daniel whispering, “Hello, little man,” and Luna sleeping with her hand beside her cheek.
Then Daniel looked at me.
“She will want to come.”
“I know.”
“I can tell her no.”
“Let the nurses handle the door.”
He nodded.
At 12:15, Daniel stood beside the window with his phone while I set both birth bracelets beside my water cup.
He took three pictures.
“Why three?”
“The first one
