LOGINMia's POVThe fourth puppy comes while Alexander is still counting.I barely register it. My hands move on autopilot—catch, tear, clear, rub. This one fights from the first second, squirming and protesting, and I place it near Gas's belly without really seeing it. The smell of blood and birth is thick in my nose now."Forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine—"Alexander's voice has gone hoarse. Scratchy. Like he's been yelling at a soccer game for hours.The fifth one slides out easier than the others. Already crying before I clear its face. Strong. Angry. Alive."Fifty-two, fifty-three—""Alexander." Ethan's voice cuts through. "Your hands.""I'm fine.""They're shaking. You need to switch.""I said I'm fine—""You're going to hurt it.""I don't want to stop," he whispers. "What if I stop—""It won't be your fault." Kyle's voice "Nothing about this is your fault. But Ethan's right. Your muscles are tired. Madison can take over for a few minutes.""But—""You're not giving up. You're bein
Mia's POVSmall feet on hardwood.The shuffle of sleep-heavy steps. The creak of the third floorboard from the hallway—the one Alexander always jumps over during the day but forgets about at night."Mama?" Alexander's voice. "Mama, what's—"He stops.Three small figures in the dim light. Alexander in front, his dinosaur pajamas twisted, one sock missing, hair flat on the left side where he was sleeping. Ethan just behind him, squinting, one hand on the wall like he's not quite sure he's awake. Madison at the back.Alexander's eyes find Kyle first.I watch it happen, the moment of wait, Daddy's supposed to be in the hospital, and then something else. Then his gaze moves past Kyle. To the puppy in Kyle's hands."Is that..." He's already walking. His bare feet slap against the floor, too loud in the quiet. "Is that one of the babies? Why isn't it—why is it so still?""Alexander—""It's not moving." He's beside Kyle now, dropping to his knees, his face level with Kyle's hands. "Daddy, it'
Mia's POVThe world outside is holding its breath. No cars. No voices. Just the hum of the refrigerator and the soft, ragged sounds of Gas panting beside me.I've been sitting on this floor for so long that my tailbone has gone numb. My back aches. My eyes burn from not blinking enough, from staring at Gas's swollen belly like I can will the puppies out through sheer concentration.Gas whines again.Not her usual whine—not the one she uses when Alexander steals the last bite of my toast, or when Ethan accidentally steps on her tail. This sound comes from somewhere deeper."I know, girl." My voice is barely a whisper. "I know."I press my palm against her side and feel another contraction ripple beneath her fur. The muscles tighten, hold, release. Her back legs scrabble against the towels I've laid out. Her eyes find mine.Dogs can't speak, but right now, in this moment, Gas is telling me something with every fiber of her being."I'm here." I stroke the space between her ears. "I'm rig
Mia's POVGas looked up at us. Her eyes were bright, wild with something ancient and instinctive. She whined."Mama." Alexander's hand found mine. "Is Gas okay?""She's fine. This is normal." I squeezed his fingers. "But it might take a long time. Hours, maybe. Dogs don't have their babies all at once.""How long?""I don't know exactly. Every dog is different.""Can we stay? Can we watch?"I looked at them. Three small faces, still damp from the bath, still flushed from the warm water. Three sets of eyes, wide and worried and hopeful."Not tonight," I said."But—""It's almost two in the morning. You need to sleep.""We're not tired!""Alexander, you were literally falling asleep in the car.""That was CAR tired. This is PUPPY tired. Different kinds of tired.""There's only one kind of tired, and you have it.""That's not scientifically accurate," Ethan said."Bed. Now."Alexander opened his
Mia's POV"Okay," I said. My voice came out strange. Thick. "Okay. Bath time.""But we just got HOME—""You all smell like hospital.""What does hospital smell like?" Alexander asked, not moving from his position on the floor, his face still approximately two inches from Gas's nose."Sadness," I said. "And floor cleaner. And that weird soup they kept trying to make us eat.""That soup WAS weird. It was like—like someone put water and disappointment in a bowl and called it food.""Hence. Bath.""Hence is a weird word.""Alexander.""Going, going."The bathroom was small. With all three children crammed into the tub, with steam fogging the mirror and water sloshing dangerously close to the edge.Alexander had claimed the faucet end. He always claimed the faucet end—said it was the "captain's seat". His back was pressed against the porcelain, his knees poking up out of the water
Mia's POVThe apartment smelled something familiar. The lavender of the diffuser I'd left running in the living room. The faint, stubborn sweetness of the cookies Alexander had baked last week, burned on the edges, still somehow lingering in the kitchen walls. The woolly, animal warmth that meant Gas.I stood in the doorway and let the smell of it wash over me.Alexander pushed past me first. "We're HOME!" he announced. "WE'RE HOME AND DADDY'S ALIVE!"His voice bounced off the walls. Off the family photos in the hallway—the one from last Christmas where Ethan was mid-sneeze, the one from Madison's adoption day where we were all crying and smiling at once. Off the coatrack with its tangle of scarves and jackets, the top hook still holding the raincoat I'd been meaning to donate for six months.The lights came on. One by one. The living room with the blanket still bunched on the couch where Madison had been sitting when I told them we were goin







