SIENNA'S POV
Catherine had been screaming for forty minutes before Flynn arrived and she stopped the moment he picked her up.
I stood in the kitchen doorway with pasta going cold in a bowl and watched my brother pace the length of my living room with my daughter pressed against his chest and felt, not for the first time, the specific gratitude of someone who had not expected to have backup.
"She's been like this all day," I said.
Flynn adjusted his hold without looking up. Catherine gripped his finger with her whole fist and went quiet with the decisiveness of a four month old who had made her point and was satisfied. He walked slowly, the particular rhythm he'd discovered in the second month that worked on her when nothing else did.
I ate my pasta standing at the counter.
Flynn came
