There were stones in Cash’s chest, slabs of them, and he was trying to breathe calm steady breaths through them. There were things they had not talked about, decisions to be made — if she died, what were they to do? Cash knew what he wanted, he knew how to get it, but he was not sure of anyone who would follow his wishes.

He was terrified, his chest hurt, he was so, so, tired. And then she looked at him again. Cash wanted to say no, wanted to protest — he did not want the baby to look like him — but instead extended his hands to very gently take their son from her. ”He’s so small,” Cash breathed.