Page 2 of His Daughter

I nodded. "Yep!"

We climbed out of the car together. Caleb held my hand as we walked into the building. The receptionist behind the glass partition smiled when she saw us. Caleb sat with one ankle crossed over his knee. He held my hand and rubbed his thumb along my knuckle in slow passes. I pulled the file out of my bag.

He glanced over. "Again?"

I shrugged. "I can't help it."

I read the details over and over again. Baby girl. Born three days ago. A heart-shaped birthmark on the inside of her left wrist. I'd read this file so many times that the pages were soft at the corners.

"She's ours, Caleb." I looked up at him. "She's really ours."

He leaned over and kissed my temple. "She's really ours."

I closed the file and held it against my chest. My knee was bouncing again. Caleb put his hand on it.

“Walkers.”

Caleb and I looked up at the same time. Janet appeared in the doorway. The corners of her forehead crinkled as she smiled at us. She tilted her head up, her silver bob swishing as she moved. “Come on back.”

Caleb stood first and offered me his hand. I took it. His palm was dry and warm. Mine wasn't. A stray dark curl fell down my face, splitting my vision into two. I reached up to smoothen it.

We followed her down the hall to her office with the window overlooking the parking lot. I'd sat in this chair enough times to know the left armrest wobbled.

“So…” she began, glancing between us. “How are you doing? Excited?”

I nodded. “Yeah, but I have one question about the birthmark. Has it been checked? I just want to make sure she's healthy."

Janet looked up over her glasses. "Perfectly healthy. Strong. All her screenings came back clean."

I turned to look at Caleb. He was smiling. His blue eyes were bright with excitement. Nothing could go wrong.

"Okay," I said. "Good."

"Everything looks — " Janet's phone rang.

She glanced at the screen. A small line appeared between her brows. She stared at the number for a beat too long, then held up one finger.

"Excuse me for just a moment."

She stepped into the hallway and left the door ajar. Through the gap, I could hear the low murmur of her voice, but not the words. I turned to Caleb.

"Probably just a scheduling thing," he said.

"Probably."

I opened the file again, flipped to the page with the birthmark description, and read it for the thousandth time, running my finger along the words. Caleb stretched his legs out and crossed his ankles.

"So who's taking the first night?" he asked.

"Me,” I answered without looking up. “The bassinet's already on my side."

"I can move it."

"You could, but you won't, because I already set it up. If you move it, I'll just move it back."

He grinned. "Fair enough. I'll take the second shift then."

"You'll sleep through the second shift."