Nora's POV
"Just a little longer, little one," James murmurs to Renata as we sprawl across the living room floor.
Our daughter lies on her tummy time mat, and we're doing everything possible to prevent another crying fit or face-plant episode. Dinner ended not long ago, followed by a bath that energized rather than calmed her. Now we're attempting stomach exercises, hoping she'll grant us several uninterrupted hours of sleep before her next feeding.
I slide backward to capture photos of James and Renata together. The image goes straight to my group chat with Charlette and Ophelia. While we're not concealing Renata's birth, we're avoiding any grand announcements that might give demons ammunition to use against me.
Renata's tears begin flowing as her head drops to the mat. Every fiber of my being wants to sweep her up immediately. When she lifts her head again, we celebrate like she just claimed Olympic gold.
