Liberty calls to me through the monitor. “Ma-Ma.”

I want nothing more than to sleep late today. The adrenaline high of the World Series game took hours to fade. I wrote until two a.m. knowing Liberty rarely sleeps past seven.

I’m surprised to find Trenton already up and working in the kitchen as Liberty and I enter.

“Good morning,” he greets without looking up from the laptop and legal pad in front of him on the table.

“It won’t be good until ...