Just tired.
“Come in,” I said.
She put the bag on the table.
Inside was a small knitted blanket.
Pink, with white flowers around the edges.
“I made it myself,” she said. “I didn’t know what else to bring.”
Emilia was lying in her crib, moving her little arms.
Silvia slowly approached.
“Can I hold her?”
My heart tightened.
I looked at my daughter.
Then at the baby.
“Yes.”
Silvia picked her up awkwardly.
For the first few seconds, she looked as though she didn’t know where to put her hands.
Then Emilia grabbed her finger.
Silvia began to cry.
“She’s so tiny.”
“Yes.”
“Mom…”
I waited.
“I really was afraid.”
I nodded.
“I know.”
“But I was also angry. Because…” She swallowed. “Because I thought that if you had another child, everything you had done for us would become less important.”
Those words surprised me.
“What does that mean?”
