The first ultrasound Leander attended was at twelve weeks.
Dr. Alistair—not Dr. Thorne, because Leander couldn't know about Dashiell's private obstetrician—smiled warmly as he prepared the equipment.
"Ready to see your baby, Mr. Abernathy?"
Leander gripped his walker, his face radiant with joy. He'd insisted on standing for this moment, even though it clearly cost him. "More than ready."
Liora lay on the exam table, her shirt pulled up, trying not to think about the nearly identical scene two weeks ago with Dashiell, the way he'd held her hand, the way he'd stared at the screen like it held the secrets of the universe.
The gel was cold. The wand pressed against her stomach.
And there he was. Atlas. So much bigger now, more clearly human, moving and tumbling in the darkness.
"Oh my G
