Her lips curved, tired but teasing. Then she looked down at the tiny bundle in her arms, brushing a fingertip over our daughter’s downy hair. “Want to hold her again?”
“Yeah,” I rasped, already reaching before the word was out of my mouth.
Dani shifted carefully, easing our little girl into my arms. My throat went tight because somehow, she was both fragile and indestructible, everything I’d never known I needed until she was here.
I rocked her gently, brushing a thumb over the softness of her cheek. “You know, at some point we’re going to have to give her name. Unless you want to stick with BB?”
Dani’s voice came quiet, tentative. “I was thinking about Bailey.”
My gaze flicked to hers. “Bailey?”
She nodded, smoothing a silvery-blue strand of hair back from her damp forehead. “Bailey Bernal. I know you wanted her to have your name . . . and I do, too. This way, she gets a little piece of both of us.”
For a moment, I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. Just looked from Dani, glowing and spent in the hospital bed, to the tiny miracle in my arms.
Bailey Bernal. Our girl.Ours.
My chest squeezed, a laugh catching in my throat. “Kitten, that’s perfect.” I bent, kissing our daughter’s forehead, my heart hammering. “Bailey Bernal.”
The name settled in my bones, steady and sure, like it had always been hers. Like it had been waiting for us, for this moment. I traced a finger along the curve of her tiny ear, marveling at how something so small could tilt my entire world on its axis. She was only a few hours old, but already she had me wrapped around her itty-bitty finger.
“Bailey,” I repeated.
A soft knock pulled me from my thoughts. Dani’s brows lifted in surprise as the door eased open. Allie stepped inside, her hand resting lightly on Carolina’s shoulder. She looked tired, because who wouldn’t be after shepherding a six-year-old through the longest night of their little life? Nonetheless, her smile was warm and genuine.
“Congratulations,” she said softly, her gaze flicking between Dani and me before settling on the bundle in my arms.
“Thank you,” I managed, my voice thick. “You didn’t have to stay so late.”
“Somebody insisted she meet her little sister.”
Carolina practically vibrated with energy, bouncing on her toes as her eyes went wide. “Can I see her? Is she here?”
Dani’s smile spread, luminous even in her exhaustion. “Of course you can, sweetheart. Come meet Bailey.”
Allie gave Carolina’s shoulder a gentle squeeze and then stepped back, letting her daughter dart toward us, her excitement filling the room like sunlight. Carolina’s eyes went as round as saucers when she reached the bedside. She climbed carefully onto the chair beside me, her knees tucked under her, and peered down at the tiny bundle in my arms.
“She’s so small,” she whispered, awe written all over her face. Then, after a long pause, her little brow furrowed. “She looks like one of my dolls.”
Dani let out a tired laugh, brushing her hand through Carolina’s hair. “She’s real, I promise.”
Carolina studied her sister another beat, then grinned, showing off the small gap where her tooth used to be. The tooth fairy had visited twice in the past month. “And she poops, right? Because my dolls don’t do that.”
The room filled with laughter. But when Carolina leaned closer, pressing one tiny finger to Bailey’s palm and gasping when her sister’s fist curled tight around it, her smile softened.
“She likes me,” she whispered, her voice reverent. Then she wrinkled her nose thoughtfully, leaning closer to sniff. “She smells kind of like sugar cookies.”
Dani blinked, amused. “Sugar cookies, huh?”
Carolina nodded seriously, her eyes never leaving Bailey. “Mm-hmm, warm and buttery. I guess that means she’s gonna be the sweetest sister ever.”
Silence fell for a moment, thick and fragile, and I thought my chest might split open right there.
I pressed a kiss to the top of Carolina’s head, my voice like gravel. “That’s exactly right, sweetheart.”
Dani’s breath hitched, and then the tears came fast, hot, and unstoppable. She pressed a trembling hand over her mouth, laughing through the sob that broke free. “Oh my god,” she choked. “You can’t just say things like that.”
From the doorway, Allie smiled softly before slipping out, closing the door with the kind of quiet grace that made me grateful all over again for how we’d learned to move forward. And then it was just us.
