"Look at them," I said softly. "They're thriving. They're happy."
Sam sighed. "I know. I just worry."
"That's your job as godmother." I squeezed her hand. "But we're safe here. I promise."
After Sam left, I sat on the floor with the twins during their evening playtime, marveling at their determination to master walking. They were so different already—Austin bold and fearless, Alex thoughtful and precise. Both with Michael's striking blue-gray eyes, a fact that both comforted and haunted me.
"Who wants a story before bedtime?" I asked as the evening wound down.
"Book!" Austin declared, his limited vocabulary always including his favorite things.
I gathered them onto my lap in the rocking chair, their warm weight settling against me. As I read about a bunny saying goodnight to the moon
