She prays for the baby on its way through her. She prays for her mother asleep upstairs in her room, for her father on the other side, for Timi in Amsterdam, for Aiden wherever she is, for Bobby in New York, and finally, for Salomé in Halifax. She prays for their safe passage, whenever the time arises. And for each of them to know, however they must learn it, just how beloved they are. By the time she glazes the twice-risen loaves with melted butter and sets them in the oven to bake, it is almost three a.m.
