After Nera fell asleep, I snuck out of the bedroom and tiptoed to the room next door. I stood in the doorway and watched Lucia’s little sleeping form. I didn’t dare to come any closer, simply listened to her breathe as she lay curled under her fluffy yellow blanket. Then, around three in the morning, I crouched by my baby’s bed and watched her cherubic face. She looks just like Nera when she’s sleeping. I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight. My daughter. It felt like I was observing a miracle. How could something so perfect and innocent ever come from me? Would I taint her if I touched her?
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