Raymond had faced gunfire without flinching.He had walked through collapsing buildings, survived ambushes, interrogations, blood loss, explosions, and enough violence to haunt several lifetimes.None of it prepared him for this.The tiny infant resting carefully in his arms weighed almost nothing. And yet she felt heavier than every responsibility he had ever carried combined.For several long seconds he simply stared down at her. Unable to breathe properly. Unable to think properly.The baby continued crying furiously beneath hospital lights, tiny fists clenched tightly near her face while soft pink blankets wrapped around her small trembling body.Their daughter. His daughter. The reality refused to fully settle inside his mind.Raymond’s hands looked enormous holding her. Dangerous hands. Scarred hands.Hands built for survival and war now trying desperately to support something impossibly fragile.The nurse adjusted the blanket gently around the baby before smiling softly at him.
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