Three months had passed since Derek was born.
Our life had settled into a quiet routine. The shelter was bigger now, stronger than before, and hidden well between the trees. Lydia had reinforced the walls, Mara kept the place warm and clean, and I spent most of my time with Derek.
He was growing quickly.
That evening, I sat beside the small fire with Derek in my arms. He had just finished feeding and was slowly falling asleep.
“You are fighting sleep again,” I whispered.
His tiny hand moved against my chest. I smiled. “You are stubborn.”
Mara laughed from across the room. “He gets that from you.”
“Definitely not.”
Lydia walked in carrying a bundle of wood. “Both of you are stubborn.”
I looked at her. “You are just jealous because nobody said you were stubborn.”
She dropped the wo
