me.
Without thinking, Greg held out his arms.
I passed her back.
He wrapped the blanket around her with practiced hands, tested the temperature of the bottle against his wrist, then settled her into the crook of his elbow.
I watched every movement.
I’d never seen Greg feed a kitten before.
But I’d seen those exact hands doing the same thing decades earlier.
First with Michael.
Then with Emma.
Support the head.
Tilt the bottle.
Rub the back.
Wait.
I sat on the edge of the guest bed.
“Greg.”
He
