I was exhausted, sore, and struggling to stay awake. Elio sat in the back beside the car seat, but he did not chatter the way he usually did.
Halfway home, I turned to look at him.
“You okay, sweetheart?”
He stared out the window.
“I’m tired.”
I assumed the hospital had overwhelmed him.
When we reached the house, Keaton carried the car seat upstairs. I followed slowly with one hand pressed against my stomach. Elio came behind me until we reached the nursery.
Then he stopped.
Keaton placed the baby in the crib and began loosening the straps.
“Elio,” I said. “Come see your sister in her room.”
He did not move.
His fingers tightened around the doorframe. The color drained from his face.
“That’s not her.”
Keaton glanced over his shoulder.
“What?”
Elio took one step backward.
“That’s not my sister.”
I almost smiled because I thought he was making a strange joke.
“Of course she is.”
“No.”
His voice was barely audible.
“You brought home the wrong baby.”
Keaton laughed, but the sound was impatient.
“Buddy, babies look different after they leave the hospital.”
Elio shook his head.
“I want to go to my room.”
He ran before either of us could stop him.
Keaton and I exchanged a look.
“He’s jealous,” Keaton said.
