Lucas came first.
Four pounds, fourteen ounces, announced with a cry so immediate and so indignant that Dr. Holt laughed out loud, which was, Lila would later decide, the best possible sound for that moment. Kane made a sound she had never heard from him before — something low and involuntary, the sound of a person's chest cracking open to make room for something new.
"He's perfect," the nurse said, and placed him — briefly, warmly, and then away to be checked — against Lila's cheek.
His cheek was the softest thing she had ever touched in her life. His eyes were screwed shut and his mouth was still objecting loudly to the sudden change in circumstances. She pressed her lips against his temple and said his name once, quietly, and felt something happen in her chest that had no comparison
