POV: Antonio
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Luna took her first steps on a Tuesday.
I was in the garden, weeding, when Sofia called my name. I looked up. Luna was standing in the grass, holding onto Sofia's hand, wobbling on unsteady legs.
"Let go," I said softly. "Let her try."
Sofia let go.
Luna stood for a moment, swaying. Then she took a step. Then another. Then she was running—stumbling, really, but running—across the grass toward me.
I caught her before she fell, swung her up, held her close.
"You did it," I said. "You did it, Luna."
She laughed—that huge, open-mouthed laugh that made everyone around her smile—and patted my face with sticky hands.
Sofia reached us, breathless, laughing, crying.
"She walked."
"She walked."
"We're going to have to childproof everything."
I looked at our daughter, a
