Megan was sitting up, eating a bowl of broth.

Her eyes lit up when she saw the baby.

“Can I hold her?” she asked.

The nurse helped me lift the baby out of the bassinet.

We placed her gently in Megan’s arms.

Megan held her close, burying her face in the pink blanket.

“She’s so small,” Megan whispered.

“She is strong,” I said.

“Like her mom.”

We decided to name her Lily.

It was Megan’s grandmother’s name.

For three days, we stayed in that hospital room.

The police came back once to get Megan’s signature on the formal complaint.

They told us my mother was being held without bail at the Cook County Jail.

Her lawyer had tried to argue for house arrest.

The judge had looked at the forged documents and denied it immediately.

On the fourth day, Megan was cleared for discharge.

Lily had to stay in the neonatal unit for two more days to monitor her breathing.

But she was gaining weight.

I drove Megan back to our apartment in Pilsen.

The neighborhood was quiet.

The autumn leaves were sweeping across the gray sidewalks of 18th Street.