Not The Surrogate Baby They Ordered
"I made friends with Oliver. He's four. And I drew you a picture of your office, even though I haven't seen it yet, so I had to guess."
Elena laughed, examining the drawing — a small rectangular room with an oversized desk, a stick figure clearly meant to represent Elena herself, and a large window with careful, deliberate sun rays streaming through it.
"This is beautiful," Elena said, meaning it. "I love it."
"You can hang it in your real office," Zuri said. "Once I see what it actually looks like."
"I would love that," Elena said, pressing a soft kiss to her daughter's head. "I'm going to head back upstairs for a bit longer, okay? I'll come get you as soon as I'm done for the day."