Rawley moved in behind, leaned over, and wrapped both arms around Jojo, careful not to jostle the baby. For a moment, the three of them formed a perfect, self-contained world.
I watched Carter approach the bed, eyes wide, shoulders hunched like he was afraid to break the moment. He hovered at the edge, then reached out, tentative, and let the baby grab his finger.
“He’s so small,” Carter breathed.
Jojo grinned. “He’s got your stubborn, too.”
I came closer. Rawley looked at me, then at Carter, then back at me. “You want to hold him?” he asked, and I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.
But Carter nodded, so sure I thought he might cry.
Jojo passed the baby over, careful, and Carter took him in both arms, eyes locked on the little face. The baby blinked up, unimpressed, then yawned so wide we all laughed.
Carter held the baby for a long time. I watched as his thumb traced the blanket, as he leaned his cheek down to brush the newborn hair, as his other hand moved instinctively to rest on his own stomach.
“Hey,” he whispered. “You’re going to have a cousin soon.”
Jojo smiled, half delirious, and Rawley squeezed his shoulder. “We’ll help you with everything,” Rawley said. “Swear on it.”
I felt something shift inside me—something raw and old and finally allowed to let go. We stood together, the five of us, in a little square of hospital light, and for the first time I believed that the future was something you could build, if you just held on tight enough.
Carter looked up at me, eyes bright and scared and so alive. “You ready?” he asked.
I nodded, took his hand, and said, “Always.”
We stayed until the nurse came to check vitals, then promised to be back first thing in the morning.
Outside, the air was sharp and clean, Montana spring sneaking up on the world with new growth and the smell of possibility.
I slid into the driver’s seat, Carter beside me. For a long minute, neither of us spoke. Then, quiet, he said, “I want to do it right. For them. For us.”
I looked at him, at the way his hands curled protectively over his stomach, at the determination settling over his face like a battle plan.
“We will,” I said, and I meant it.
We drove home under the first stars, the road smooth and empty. And for once, I wasn’t afraid of what came next.
I was ready.
