Yvette arrived two days later, uncertain, her arms crossed the way they'd been crossed in the prison waiting room, bracing for something she didn't yet have a name for.
She looked at the child in the hospital bed for a long moment.
Hope was thin from the illness, her face narrower than a healthy toddler's should be, but there, Yvette's breath caught slightly there in the shape of her eyes, something familiar. Something that lived in Lumi and Lucy, too, the particular tilt at the outer corner that Yvette had always privately thought came from her own mother.
"Why am I here?" Yvette asked quietly, not quite a question yet.
"I need you to do a DNA test with her," Amira said. "Please."
Yvette didn't understand, not fully, not at first. But she agreed.
