Let me get her to her room so you can head to bed.” “I can do it.” Hudson climbs off the couch and stands. He scoops Lucy in his arms, looking down at me. “Come say good night, Mads.” Mads. I like that. Hudson steps over the dogs, and they don’t budge. I follow him, and my heart does that weird, painful thing again when he puts a hand on the back of Lucy’s head so she doesn’t bump the wall. It sputters a third time when he gently sets her on her mattress and pulls the covers up to her chin.
