“How long was I out?” she asked, her voice rough.
“Only a few hours.” He smiled at her. “How do you feel?”
“Sore. Tired. Happy.” She reached for Sera, and he carefully transferred the baby to her. “Has she eaten?”
“The midwife helped with the feeding while you slept.” He settled his hand on her leg, warm and reassuring. “She’s been perfect. Just sleeping and eating.”
She looked down at her daughter, and felt an overwhelming rush of love and protectiveness. This tiny person, part of her and part of Selik, proof that their impossible bond was real.
“Where’s Anya?”
“On her way. She was out on the boat with Jarrek when I contacted her. She should be here soon.”
As if summoned, the door opened and Anya slipped in, her expression anxious.
“Is everything okay?” She stopped, saw the baby, and her face transformed. “Oh.”
“Come meet your sister,” she said.
Anya approached slowly, her usual teenage bravado gone. She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at Sera with something like awe.
“She’s so small.”
“She’ll grow.” She shifted over to make more room for Anya. “Do you want to hold her?”
“I don’t want to hurt her.”
“You won’t,” she said firmly, and carefully placed Sera in Anya’s arms. The girl went very still, her face wondering.
“She’s heavier than she looks,” Anya said.
“Almost three kilos,” Selik said. “A good size.”
Sera stirred, opened her eyes briefly, then settled back to sleep. Anya’s face softened.
“Hi, Sera. I’m your big sister.” She glanced at Corinne. “Mikoz’s her brother, but I’m her sister, aren’t I?”
“Of course you are.” Her voice came out shaky but certain. “You’re all her siblings.”
Anya nodded, satisfied, and went back to staring at the baby. They sat like that for a long time, the four of them together, until Sera started fussing and she had to feed her again. Anya reluctantly handed her back, but didn’t leave. She just moved to the chair beside the bed and watched.
“Wendy said you can come home tomorrow,” she said. “If everything’s okay.”
“Good, because I think everything’s very okay.”
The door opened again, and Mikoz charged in, Wendy following apologetically.
“Sorry, he insisted?—”
“It’s fine.” She laughed as Mikoz climbed onto the bed, demanding to see his baby again.
Wendy joined them, and suddenly the small room was full—full of people, full of noise, full of love. This was family. This messy, chaotic, perfect thing they’d built together.
She looked at Selik, found him watching her with an expression that made her chest ache. Pride. Love. Gratitude.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, the words meant only for her.
“For what?”
