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“But Ana doesn’t, usually”

“Does she have a fever?” That seee put her cheek down on Ana’s head “I don’t think so” She smoothed her hands over the baby’s brow “She doesn’t feel warm to me Does she feel warm to you?”

He couldn’t bring hiile Small-boned Delicate He didn’t want to put his hands on her

“I don’t think she’s warm,” he said

Paige put her hand on the baby’s forehead “No, you’re right I don’t think she is Could you sing to her?”

“Sing?” he asked

“A lullaby”

His breath stalled in his throat, got trapped there “I don’t know any lullabies,” he lied

“Oh…that’s okay” She patted Ana on the back “I tried to sing and she just cried harder so I thought maybe you could…”

“Sorry,” he said, curling his fingers into fists, fighting the urge to run from the room

For that reason alone he had to stay Dante Romani did not run He would not

Ana hiccuped, her tiny shoulders jerking with the motion Her cries slowed, quieted, until they became muffled, sporadic whimpers

He watched her for a few e continued to rock Ana until the whiether

“See, she was just crying,” he said, trying to sound certain Trying to feel some control over the situation when the simple fact was, he had none There was a nursery in his hos in his closet

No, nothing was in his control anymore

“I guess she was,” Paige whispered

She got up froerly onto thefor a second while she waited to see if the baby would wake up