"Look at you," Felicity whispered, tracing one finger along the impossibly soft curve of her ear. "Look at you loving your breakfast."
Lottie's only answer was to blink up at her with that same dazed, adoring stare, milk dribbling from the corner of her mouth, and Felicity felt something in her chest give way entirely, some last held-together piece of her unspooling at the sight of it. She didn't try to stop it. She just let herself feel it, sitting there on the rug with her back aching and her daughter drinking from her like the whole world made sense as long as she stayed right there.
