He went over to her.
I couldn’t see much because the doctor was still tending to me, but I could see Caleb’s expression.
He was openly crying.
“She has this little mark.”
The nurse replied with something I couldn’t make out.
Caleb laughed.
Then he bent closer.
“Oh, wow.”
“What?” I called.
He turned his head toward me.
“What kind of mark?”
“She has this little mark.”
“What kind of mark?”
“Near her collarbone. Dark, kind of oval. Looks like somebody pressed a thumb into wet paint.”
The nurse gave a chuckle.
“Birthmark. Completely harmless.”
Caleb looked down at her once more.
For the first time that entire day, I almost felt normal.
“Left side?”
“Yes.”
He smiled broadly.
“She already has more distinguishing features than I do.”
“That’s not difficult,” I said.
He pretended to look offended.
Our daughter was alive.
For the first time that entire day, I almost felt normal.
Our daughter was alive.
Przeczytaj więcej, klikając przycisk ( DALEJ »» ) poniżej!






