❝ –– perhaps it’s true that things can change in a day. and when they do, those few dozen hours, like the salvaged remains of a burned house—the charred clock, the singed photograph, the scorched furniture—must be resurrected from the ruins and examined. and suddenly, they become the bleached bones of a story.
Addison took a deep breath. Teddy was right. Both mother and baby were okay and now it was time to let go. The redhead nodded and offered a little grin before turning to look at the mother and son on the other side of the window. She tilted her head, her smile growing as she came to a realization.
“I want one.”
Glancing at the candor of the expression on Addison’s face, Teddy felt like an intruder; a v o y e u r of sorts. She had no place bearing witness to this woman’s y e a r n i n g ——
not when she already had it all.
“It’s n e v e r too late,” Teddy said stiffly, wondering what more she could possibly say.
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