Silence yawned between them, filling the space with an unbearable discomfort as he waited for her to speak. When she did, her voice held not a single drop of emotion.

“I get it,” she said. “You were just doing your job.”

“I’m sorry,” Daniel said again.

“I’m sure you are,” she said. “I’d like you to leave now.”

Then she shut the door.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Samiah switched the balloon bouquet to her other hand so that she could hit the elevator button to take her up to postpartum recovery at St. David’s Women’s Center. When the doors opened, she stopped in at the nurses’ station and showed them the name tag that had been printed out for her at the hospital’s security desk, then continued down the sterile hallway, gently knocking on the door when she came to room 228.

“Come in,” came Bradley’s voice in a loud whisper.

Samiah walked into the room and instant tears sprang to her eyes. She gasped at the sight of the tiny baby nestled in her brother-in-law’s arms. He put a finger to his lips and gestured his head toward Denise, who was asleep in the bed.

Ouch. Her big sister was in dire need of a hairbrush and edge cream. Then again, after spending the past nine hours pushing out an eight-pound baby, Denise no doubt cared little about her edges.

Samiah set the balloons on a nearby credenza and made a beeline for her new niece.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered, scooping the delicate bundle from her brother-in-law’s arms. “Could she be any more precious?”

Little Aislinn, who was named after Bradley’s late mother, had her father’s green eyes and pert nose, but everything else screamed Brooks.

If there was anything that could lift her spirits after the abominable mood she’d been in, Samiah had found it in this precious new life that would fill their family with joy for years to come. As she looked upon her niece’s beautiful face, Samiah immediately understood why her sister had endured so much. She’d never said it aloud, but she’d thought Denise and Bradley were crazy for spending the thousands of dollars they’d shelled out for fertility treatments. She’d watched her sister take countless shots and suffer through over a dozen painful procedures to become pregnant, and wondered why.

She got it now. This baby, this perfect little human she now held, was worth it all.

“She’s so gorgeous,” Samiah said to her brother-in-law, who looked almost as ragged as her sister. His red hair stuck up in various spots, and it looked as if he hadn’t slept in at least twenty-four hours.

The baby stirred, and then, a second later, started bellowing.

“Oh, shit. What’s wrong?” Samiah asked.

“That’s the call of the hungry.”