Sarah

Blake lifts his head from the carpet in the sitting room off the foyer, his chubby fingers gripping the carpet fibers as he whines, his mouth pulled in a frown.

“This is supposed to be good for you, honey,” I urge when he starts to fuss. Dalia, on her knees beside me, nods in silent agreement. “See? You’re learning how to push up with your arms. Soon you’ll be rolling over onto your back if you want it bad enough.”

In response, Blake turns purple with rage and lets out a howl that I’m sure can be heard in the village.

Dalia and I exchange looks, but she chuckles...