Very early this morning, Linda slept the sleep of a new mother, and the house was quiet. I fed Violet on the couch, while we examined each other over the bottle’s round rim. When it was nearly empty, I gently removed the bottle from her lips and checked the amount of milk remaining. Only a few drops lingered, and I smiled at her, telling her what a good girl she was. A smile broke across her face at a run, appearing wide and all gums for only a moment, before disappearing again behind searching lips.