Their faces tightened with suspicion. “Who are you?” one asked sharply.


    It hit me–they didn’t recognize me. We’d met before, but that was years ago, and they’d aged since


    then.


    “I’m… a friend of Desmond’s,” I lied, keeping my tone light. No way would they tell me anything if I


    revealed the real reason I was here. “I heard he had a baby and thought I’d check in.”


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    Their eyes darted to each other, their unease palpable. “We’ve never seen you before,” one said,


    voice sharp with doubt. “And Desmond never mentioned a


    friend like you.”


    Their guardedness made sense–these days, you couldn’t be too careful with all the scams and con


    artists around.


    I offered a gentle smile as I handed over the small gifts I’d brought. “It’s okay. I just wanted to check


    in and see how you’re doing. That’s all.”


    But they didn’t take them. “We don’t know you, and we’re notfortable with


    this.”


    With that, they turned and walked away.


    I stayed rooted in ce, watching them go. Following them would only make things worse, pushing


    their suspicion or fear over the edge.


    Still, where was the child? Was he cared for by a nanny?


    I couldn’t exactly march into their apartment to find out. Instead, I went to the property management


    office, left the gifts with them, and casually asked if they could pass them along.


    While I was there, I tried to bring up the child in conversation.


    “Their grandson? Oh, he’s doing just fine,” the property staff said. “They dotes on him. They take


    him out to y every day–usually near the yground.”


    He gestured toward a small y area within themunity.


    “They treat that boy like gold,” he added. “Though I heard he’s been under the


    weather with a cold. They even brought in a doctor to care for him. See over there? He pointed


    across the way.


    Following his direction, I spotted a middle–aged woman gently pushing a baby carriage near


    the yground.


    He continued, “Even if you say you’re a friend of their son, the couple doesn’t want to hear it. You


    might as well take those gifts back. They’ll just toss them.”


    That caught me off guard. Desmond’s parents weren’t just cautious–they were set in their ways.


    I decided not to push further. Still, I left the gifts with the property management.


    Curiosity pulled me toward the yground, hoping to catch a glimpse of Desmond’s child. As Lena


    had said, he was the cutest, chubbiest little thing. His fair skin looked impossibly soft, and his eyes


    sparkled like tiny stars.


    The baby noticed me watching and shed the sweetest, gummy smile.


    That smile–it could thaw the iciest heart. I couldn’t help but take a few steps closer. “Hi there,” I


    murmured.


    “Keira?!”


    The familiar voice startled me, and I looked up to see a woman ‘standing nearby. It took a second to


    ce her, but I recognized her immediately–Whitney. She used to work with Lena at the hospital. I’d


    run into her a few times during my


    visits back then.


    “You’re a family doctor now?” I asked, genuinely surprised.


    “Yeah,” Whitney replied. “After leaving the hospital, I struggled to find a good job, so I ended up


    opening a private family clinic.”


    As we talked, the baby in the stroller began squirming. Whitney picked him up, patting his back, but


    he kept stretching his little arms toward me.


    “Oh, you want me to hold you?” I teased, holding my hands out.


    Whitney chuckled and passed him to me.


    The second he was in my arms, his tiny hands grabbed at my cheeks, tugging at my lips, and then


    he nuzzled his head into my neck.


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    That soft, warm weight against me sent a wave through my chest. I pressed my cheek to his fluffy


    little head, like the whole world had melted into something warm and tender.


    “This poor little guy,” Whitney sighed. “He’s never been held by his mother.”


    My chest ached for him. He was so innocent and so sweet. I couldn’t help it–I kissed his soft,


    chubby cheek.


    Then Whitney’s phone buzzed, cutting through our conversation. She answered quickly, and as she


    listened, her expression tensed.


    It didn’t take much to figure out who was on the other end.


    “His grandparents want me to take the baby back home right away,” she said after hanging up.


    “They don’t want him interacting with strangers.”


    I knew exactly who they meant. Whitney did too. She gave me an apologetic smile, muttered a few


    polite words, and gently took the baby from my arms. before walking away.


    “I didn’t leave right away. Instead, I stood there, watching her disappear with that soft little bundle of


    warmth. He’d left an imprint on my heart in such a short time.


    There was something about him–so calming, so innocent.


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