POV: Sofia
---
We found out about the second baby on a Sunday.
I'd been tired for weeks. Nauseous. Off. Antonio noticed before I did.
"You're pregnant," he said, watching me push away my breakfast.
"I'm not—"
"You are." He was already reaching for his phone. "I'm calling the doctor."
"You can't just call the doctor because I pushed away my eggs."
"Watch me."
He called. I stared at him. Three hours later, we were in the doctor's office, watching a screen, seeing a tiny heartbeat flicker.
"Six weeks," the doctor said. "Everything looks good."
I looked at Antonio. He was crying.
"We're having another baby," he said.
"We're having another baby."
He kissed me—in front of the doctor, in front of the nurse, in front of anyone who was watching—and I kissed him back.
---
ANTONIO
The second pregnancy was different.
Not harder—Sofia was stronger this time, more confident, less afraid. But different. Luna was two now, running and talking and demanding attention, and she didn't understand why Mama was tired all the time.
"Baby," Sofia said, pointing at her belly. "Mama has a baby in her belly."
Luna looked at the belly. Looked at Sofia. Looked back at the belly.
"No," she said.
"Yes."
"No." She crossed her arms. "My mama."
I laughed. Sofia laughed. Luna glared at us.
"You're going to be a big sister," I said, picking her up. "That means you get to teach the baby things. Show them how to play. Help them grow."
Luna considered this.
"Teach them?" she asked.
"Teach them everything."
She looked at Sofia's belly, and slowly, she smiled.
"Okay," she said. "I teach them."
---
SOFIA
Carlo came to visit when I was seven months pregnant.
He was different now. Sober. Steady. Running his own business, a small construction company that was doing well. He brought Luna a doll, Sofia a book, Antonio a bottle of wine he'd been saving.
"You're doing well," Antonio said, accepting the wine.
"I'm trying." Carlo looked at me, at my belly. "How are you feeling?"
"Large. Tired. Ready to be done."
"You look beautiful."
"You're a terrible liar."
He laughed. "Okay, you look like you swallowed a watermelon. But you're glowing."
"Better."
He sat beside me, took my hand.
"I'm going to be better this time," he said. "With this baby. I wasn't around for Luna's first year. I was still... figuring things out. But this time, I'm going to be here."
"You're here now. That's what matters."
"I want to be the uncle they deserve. Both of them."
I squeezed his hand. "You already are."
---
ANTONIO
Luna talked to the baby every night.
She'd press her face to Sofia's belly and whisper secrets—what she'd learned that day, what games she wanted to play, what she was going to teach her new sibling.
"It's a girl," she announced one night.
"Is it?" Sofia asked.
"It's a girl. She told me."
I looked at Sofia. She looked at me.
"A girl," I said.
"A girl," Luna agreed.
She went back to whispering. I pulled Sofia close.
"She's never been wrong before."
"She's two."
"She's our daughter." I kissed her forehead. "If she says it's a girl, it's a girl."
Sofia laughed. "We'll find out in two months."
"I'm not waiting two months. I trust her."
"You're ridiculous."
"You love it."
She kissed me. "I do."
---
SOFIA
It was a girl.
We found out at the ultrasound, the technician pointing at the screen, confirming what Luna had known all along.
"I told you," Luna said, arms crossed, smug.
"You told me," I agreed.
She climbed onto my lap, pressed her face to my belly.
"Hi, baby," she whispered. "I'm your sister. I'm going to teach you everything."
I looked at Antonio. He was crying again.
"We're going to have two daughters," he said.
"We are."
"Two girls. Two Matteo girls."
I took his hand. "They're going to be trouble."
"The best kind of trouble."