Too still.
Wrapped in a faded yellow blanket that had seen better days.
The baby didn’t cry.
Didn’t move.
Didn’t even make a sound.
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Too still.
Wrapped in a faded yellow blanket that had seen better days.
The baby didn’t cry.
Didn’t move.
Didn’t even make a sound.
My fifteen-year-old maternal grandchild, Olivia, lost her female parent at age eight. After my male offspring entered a second marriage, his new partner appeared…