James
Georgie clutches her coffee in cupped palms, her body rigid. Her eyes slide to the carry-cot next to Charlotte. “Um… can I see her? Is that alright?”
Charlotte stiffens, then relaxes, a little at least. “I suppose.” She flips back a cover, but hovers close as Georgie stoops over the cot, looking at the sleeping Cara.
“I never had a sister before.” Charlotte doesn’t comment, but I move closer.
My two daughters…
Together for the first time…
Georgie glances up. “She looks like you, Dad.”
“And you,” I say. “But there’s a touch of red in her hair too. She’s inherited that from her mother.”
Georgie nods, then returns to her seat, coffee mug in her hands again, looking across the table. “So, you’re Michael? Is that right?” Her words are bright, and she smiles as she speaks. “You o
