My Fiancé's Uncle is Obsessed With Me!
She had Adrian's chin, I thought, and my mother's forehead, and a mouth that was entirely her own, already opening in demand.
Adrian was crying. I turned my head to look at him, this man who had faced down criminals and fires and the ghosts of his own making, and watched tears track freely down his face as he reached out to touch his daughter's hand. She grasped his finger immediately, her grip surprisingly strong, and his sob broke loose, unguarded and overwhelming.
"She's perfect," he whispered. "Emily, she's perfect."
"She is," I agreed, and I felt my own tears merging with sweat and exhaustion and a joy so vast it felt like it might lift me off the bed. "What should we call her?"