My sister's daughter was born on a Tuesday, which was the only day in our family that had ever been lucky.
She weighed seven pounds and two ounces. She had dark hair and a face that had not decided yet what it was going to be. Hannah held her for an hour before she would let anyone else in, and then Priya held her, and then my mother held her, and then, at the very end of the day, when the light had gone gold and the ward was quiet, Hannah put her in my arms.
"Her name is Dana," she said.
I looked up at her.
"After the woman," Hannah said. "The one who was on the list. She got married last year. She sent us a card. She said she wanted to thank us."
"Us?"
"You," she said. "And me. Both of us."
I looked down at the baby. She was asleep. Her hands were curled into fists. She did not kn
