Her shoulders squared.
Her arms tightened around the babies.
“Michael.”
“How did you find us?”
“I hired someone.”
“Of course you did.”
It was not unkind.
It was only tired.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
My voice cracked on the second word.
“For which part?” she asked.
I had no answer.
I had a dozen, and each one was too small.
“Owen and Ruby,” I said.
“Those are their names?”
“Yes.”
“They’re beautiful.”
She said nothing.
The yellow blanket moved, and a tiny fist came up out of it, opening and closing at the air.
“I called you sixty-one times,” Emily said.
“I know,” I said. “I never received a single call.”
“I know that now.”
“Do you?” she asked.
She said it very softly.
She was only asking whether I finally understood how long she had held her hand out, and how many times it had come back empty.
