“I was the one who,” Izabel struggled with how to say it in front of Cami, “saw what happened.”

It was enough for Opa to figure it out. “Oh! Oh. You know, at the next session, I’d love to just see you, Izabel, and you, Kaito, together, and we can talk about that then. But right now I have one more question for Cami. You don’t want to visit the hospital anymore?”

Cami shook her head.

“Okay, that’s good,” Opa said. “That’s good for all of us to know.”

Izabel kissed Cami’s head.

“Let’s go back further. Any health issues?”

“No,” Izabel said.

“And with her birth?”

“All the way back, huh?” Izabel said.

Opa laughed. “It’s good for me to know.”

“Labor was slow, and they used Pitocin to further things along. They broke my water. Meconium was in the water so they started to move more quickly. Everything seemed fast from there.” Izabel didn’t like recalling Cami’s birth and how scared she was that Cami would inhale the meconium. Her chest felt hot talking about it. She was worried she’d start crying, so she said, “But then she was out and she was healthy and so was I.”

“So you were never separated from each other?”

“She slept in the nursery and then they brought her to me when she woke up to nurse.”

“And you nursed?”

“It didn’t go great at the hospital, but we settled into it.”

“How long did you nurse?”

“About eight months.”

“And you were able to hold her after she was born and stay with her mostly?”

“Yes. I mean—Do you have kids?”

“Yes,” Opa said.

“Then you know. It’s a lot of back and forth as they do tests at first, whatever that’s called.”

“The Apgar.”

“Yeah, the Apgar.”

“Anything unusual otherwise? Was she a good sleeper or never cried? Anything like that?”

Izabel laughed and felt a little calmer. “No, the normal bad-sleeper, good-crier,” she said.

“And how is her sleep now, outside of the sleep-talking?”

“It’s good, I guess,” Izabel said.

“Does she go to bed at the same time every night?”

“Not too far off.”

“How about in the morning—does she wake up at the same time?”

“Yes, for school.”

“So she has a pretty scheduled day?”

“Yes.”

“Even these last few weeks, with,” she paused, “what’s been going on with you?”

“We thought it would be good,” Kaito said, “if something were consistent.”

“You know?” Cami said.

“Yes?” Opa said.

“I don’t close my eyes when I sleep.”

“No?” Opa said.

“That’s true,” Izabel said, smiling at Opa, exaggerating a little, so Opa knew Cami slept with her eyes closed like every other child in the world. “Ever since she was little, she sleeps with her eyes open.”

“Wow,” Opa said. “That’s very cool. Is there a reason you need to keep your eyes open?”