Three weeks without Dashiell should have been easier.
Instead, it was agony.
Liora found herself listening for his footsteps in the hallway. Looking up when doors opened, expecting to see him. Unconsciously touching the GPS necklace he'd given her, which she still wore hidden beneath her clothes.
"You seem distracted," Leander observed during one of his therapy sessions. He was using forearm crutches now, taking careful steps across the parallel bars. "Is something wrong?"
"Just tired," Liora said. "The baby's getting more active."
"Have you felt him kick yet?"
"Little flutters. Nothing strong enough for you to feel from the outside yet."
"I can't wait." Leander's face was radiant with joy. "Every day I get stronger, Atlas grows bigger. It's like we're both fighting our way toward t
