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“Much older.”

“Like six?”

Emma laughs against my shoulder, and I look down at our daughter while Babs waits for an answer and Biddy continues explaining crayons to a baby who’s been alive for less than an hour.

“Yeah,” I tell Babs, pulling her closer with my free arm. “We’ll talk about it someday.”

Epilogue

EMMA

NOVEMBER 21ST - ONE YEAR LATER

I hook my hands beneath Lucy’s arms and lift her away from the pile of damp leaves she’s trying to eat while Biddy crouches beside us and watches with the concern of a seven-year-old who has appointed herself assistant parent.

“She wants to crawl, Emma,” she tells me, reaching over to pull a leaf from Lucy’s coat. “She gets mad when people pick her up.”

“She also gets mad when I stop her from eating dirt.”

Biddy considers that before shaking her head. “Babies are weird.”

I laugh as I put Lucy back onto the picnic blanket beside Max, who has spent the last several minutes trying to crawl over Babs to reach the stuffed wolf behind her.

Babs catches him around the middle before he makes it across her legs. “Max, stop climbing me. I’m a person.”

He grabs a handful of her hair instead.

“Ow!” She frees it carefully and turns his attention toward the toy. “Here. Bite your wolf.”

Bane reaches us carrying two coffees and Sprout trots beside him with a branch clenched between his teeth, and the sight of both of them makes me smile before I can help myself.

“Your son is attacking Babs again,” I tell Bane as he hands me my cup.

“Our son was perfectly behaved when I left.”

“He’s had time to reconsider.”

Bane looks toward Max, who is now attempting to chew the stuffed wolf’s ear and Babs explains that toys don’t taste good.

“Seems under control.”

Sprout chooses that exact time to turn around with the branch still in his mouth and nearly takes out Theo’s knees.

Theo jumps back. “Can somebody explain why that animal has been allowed another year of freedom?”

“He lives here,” Biddy tells him.

“We’re in Central Park.”

She frowns at him. “He lives with us.”

Theo looks at me. “Thank you, Biddy. I understand dogs much better now.”

She smiles, apparently pleased to have helped, and runs back toward Babs.

They argue over whose turn it is to help with baths, then abandon whatever they’re doing whenever one of the babies cries.

In addition to our family, Wolf Shield has expanded, too—although lately Bane talks more about the Celeste Wolf Shield Initiative than any new contract we’ve signed.