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couldn’t explain it to Dev. Couldn’t even explain it to herself. But there was a huge, massive chasm of a difference between holding and clucking over Maddy’s little Lucy and holding this baby.
    My baby. Half an hour ago, I didn’t know she existed. But she’s mine.
    It was overwhelming.
    It should have been wonderful. A miracle.
    Dev loves her. I can see it.
    But it didn’t feel wonderful, it felt terrifying.
    Thank heaven Dev loves her, because I don’t.
    No. No! She had to love her own child! She did. Of course she did.
    But why couldn’t she feel it? Why wasn’t it kicking in at once, the way it had with Elin and Lisa and Maddy and all the other normal mothers in the world, the very first moment they looked at their babies? Dev clearly expected it to, with his urging that DJ would be safe in her arms. It wasn’t a question of safety. Why could she feel so tender toward Lucy today, and yet so distant and scared about this baby?
    Scared? A surge of strength hit her. She wasn’t in the habit of giving in to scared . She took in a breath to tell him that she would hold the baby after all. And she would have reached out her hands before the words came, except they were a little slow to respond to her brain’s signal and she had to make an extra effort.
    But before either the movement or the words could happen, Dev accepted her refusal, gave her an easy excuse. “You’re tired,” he said. He let out a breath that might have been partly relief, as if maybe he’d doubted the strength and coordination in her arms more than he’d let on. “We should wait a little.”
    She almost argued.
    Almost.
    But, oh, he was right, she was tired, and she’d tried so hard to stay on top of everything today. She let it go, and watched him tiptoe to the infant car carrier sitting in the corner of the living room and lay the baby down, easing his forearm out from beneath her little head with a movement so practiced and gentle it almost broke her heart.
    â€œVery tired,” she managed to respond. “I’m sorry.”
    I’m so sorry, DJ.
    â€œDon’t beat yourself up.” The baby stirred a little, but didn’t waken.
    â€œI—I—” Did he know? Did he understand the extent of her panic?
    â€œLet’s take it slow. It’s okay.”
    â€œThanks. Yes.”
    She heard a car in the driveway, and footsteps and the voices of Elin and Mom. Dev lunged for the door before they could knock. He held it open and stood with the width of his body shielding the room from their view.
    Mom said, “Is she still here?”
    â€œYes, but why are you here, Barb? I asked you very clearly to—”
    â€œI’m sorry, we just couldn’t— I’m sorry.” This was Elin, clearly reading his anger. “We have a right to be involved in this, too, don’t we? DJ is ours, too. We all care so much.”
    â€œYou’d better come in.”
    â€œThank you,” said Mom, in a crisp voice.
    â€œI really think it’s best, Devlin.” This was Elin, in a softer tone.
    â€œWe are as involved in all of this as you are.” Mom again.
    They dropped at once to sit on either side of Jodie on the couch, their voices running over her along with their hands, all of it a jumble that she heard at two steps removed, like recorded voices or lines from a half-remembered play. Honey, are you okay? Obviously you know. Obviously there’s so much to talk through. That’s why we wanted to wait until you were ready. What has Dev said, so far?
    â€œYou barely gave me time to say anything,” he said.
    â€œListen, it’s not as if any of us have had any experience with a situation like this, Devlin,” Elin said.
    â€œShh…keep your voice down, can you?”
    â€œSorry…sorry.” Elin glanced over at the baby and looked surprised. “You have her in the car carrier?”
    â€œShe