“You weren’t here then.”
“No,” she admitted.
“Who was?”
She glanced toward the door.
“I can get your nurse.”
My name was printed on it.
Caleb looked down at the identification band around the baby’s ankle.
“Check this first.”
The nurse did.
My name was printed on it.
Caleb’s too.
Our hospital number.
Instead, Caleb looked more frightened.
Everything appeared to match.
Relief should have followed.
Instead, Caleb looked more frightened.
“That says she’s ours,” the nurse said carefully.
Caleb shook his head.
“I know what I saw.”
“Give her to me.”
I held out my arms.
“Give her to me.”
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