Chapter 2: Night Feedings
The first night after the kitchen, Jennie left her bedroom door cracked exactly two inches. Not wide enough for the hallway light to spill across the floor, just enough for the message to be unmistakable. She told herself it was habit—leaving the door open in case the baby stirred—but the lie felt thin even in her own mind. She showered late, let the hot water beat against her swollen breasts until the ache dulled, then slipped into a thin cotton nightgown that buttoned down the front. No bra. No nursing pads. She knew what would happen. She wanted it to happen.
The baby settled at 9:47 p.m. Jennie nursed him in the rocking chair, milk flowing easily now that her supply had stabilized. When the infant was back in the crib, she climbed into bed, propped herself a
