We’re in a backyard in summer, the scent of grass and something grilling close by. Dirt pressing into my knees and palms as I chase a little blond girl with pigtails, sudden weight digging into my back as a boy tries to tackle me. Amelia’s laughter rises over soft music playing from somewhere. She’s watching me with a wide smile, sitting in an Adirondack chair, a baby curled up against her chest, a tuft of dark hair like downy duck fluff on top of her head. I don’t know how I know it’s a baby girl, but I just do. The vision is so clear, so vivid, that for a moment I am completely frozen. It
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