Spence squeezed her arm, then his gaze landed on me, curious but kind.
The pacing man stopped, his eyes flicking from Faith to me, wary and distracted.
“Any updates?” Faith asked.
Spence shook his head. “Last check, she was at eight centimeters. That was maybe half an hour ago. Could be soon… or it could still be hours.”
The other man was off the phone now, raking a hand through his hair, his voice taut. “Eight’s a lot. Feels like any second.”
“Hayden,” Faith said, stepping closer, “this is Jasmine.”
“Hayden is Corinne’s brother,” she explained.
His shoulders eased a fraction. He gave me a quick nod. “Good to meet you. Sorry it’s… like this.”
“You too,” I said softly.
Faith squeezed his arm before leading me to a pair of empty chairs. The air was taut with anticipation, every tick of the clock on the wall loud in my ears.
The front doors banged open, shattering the hush.
Kai, Coulter, and Reef barreled in together—big, loud, smelling of fish and sweat, their voices carrying like a storm blowing through the ward.
“What’s the status?” Coulter asked, his gaze darting around the room like he expected someone to hand him the baby right then. “Did we make it in time?”
Spence nodded. “Still waiting.”
The room shifted instantly with their presence—energy rolling off them, filling every corner.
And then Kai’s eyes found mine.
The noise dulled, the rest of them blurring at the edges. His mouth tugged into the smallest smile—just for me—and warmth swept through my chest, blotting out every shadow of the last few weeks.
The commotion hadn’t even settled when the hallway doors swung open. Violet stepped out, her eyes wet, her whole face lit up like the sun breaking through clouds.
Everyone froze.
“She’s here,” Violet said, her voice shaking with joy. She held up her phone, the screen glowing with a photo. “Cordelia Marie Rodman.”
The image made my breath catch. A tiny, wrinkled creature lay curled on Corinne’s chest, her dark hair plastered damp against her skin. Corinne’s eyes were closed, her face a mix of sheer exhaustion and unshakable elation, like she’d just run the hardest race of her life and crossed the finish line holding the world in her arms.
Spencer wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Coulter and Reef crowded closer, craning over Violet’s shoulder. Spence reached to steady her as she laughed through tears. Even Hayden stopped pacing, dropping hard into the nearest chair like the ground had finally caught him.
Violet’s voice softened. “Cordelia means daughter of the ocean.”
My heart squeezed. Daughter of the ocean. How perfect for this family. For this place.
Kai slid in beside me, his arm brushing mine, steady and warm. He bent close, his lips grazing my ear as the others crowded around Violet.
“I’d love to make one of those with you,” he whispered.
My pulse jumped. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
His hand closed around mine, that grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t worry, Jaz. I’m not just thinking babies. I’m thinking forever.”
EPILOGUE
The bungalow barely looked like a bungalow anymore. The giant canvas Clifton had commissioned dominated the living space, propped on the easel like a wall that had sprouted overnight. I’d joked to Kai that it left just enough room for the dogs’ water bowls and a single chair. Everything else—brushes crammed into jars, tubes of paint rolling underfoot, rags stiff with color—was orbit around that one towering piece.
