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43

Katy tried to convince me to go home and sleep, but I didn’t want to leave either of them. I couldn’t. I wanted to be here with them and make sure they were both okay.

My daughter slept in my arms. A tiny, fragile being, I already loved more than I thought was humanly possible. I couldn’t put her down. I watched as she squirmed, swaddled in a soft, pink blanket. Her rosebud mouth was pursed, her small fists fighting to escape the material. Katy had explained the whole swaddling thing to me, but I couldn’t resist loosening the cloth and letting out one of her hands. She gripped my finger with a strength that surprised and delighted me. My baby girl was strong. Her sleepy blue eyes, already so much like Katy’s, peeked up at me, then drifted shut, her grip never loosening.

“She’s perfect,” Katy whispered. I looked up with a grin.

“She is, Mommy.”

Katy’s smile was wide and beautiful. “We have to name her, Richard.”

“I know. None of the ones I liked suit her now that she’s here, and I can
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