daughter, Grace, asleep in the carrier against my chest.
Every breath pulled painfully at my incision.
I had undergone an emergency C-section less than seventy-two hours earlier. I had barely slept, barely eaten, and still felt as though my body belonged to the hospital.
I looked at my husband.
“Caleb.”
His expression changed instantly.
But he wasn’t surprised.
He looked guilty.
That was the first warning.
“Just let me explain.”
I stayed where I was.
Inside, red and silver balloons drifted above the foyer. A folding table was buried beneath
