Harper's POV

"And then," Avery says, stifling a laugh, "little Alexander—he couldn't have been more than six—decided the best way to catch a fish was to jump into the stream and grab it with his bare hands."

Brittany manages a weak smile from her bed in the clinic, but her eyes keep darting to the door. Her hands rest protectively over her belly, fingers twisting the edge of the blanket.

She hasn't slept. Neither has Avery, despite being ...