Sam walks carefully into the room; everything feels fragile, like a dream that he might wake from at any moment. The golden light from the window falls across Rosie as she sits on the bed; it softens the exhaustion on her face, makes her tangled, sweat-soaked hair glow.

He approaches cautiously. "Are you - ?"

"Perfect," she says, and he imagines the light is from inside her. "She's absolutely perfect, Sam. Here, come and hold her."

"Are you sure? I might drop her - "

"Sam, I've seen you handle seedlings without so much as a crushed stem. Now come and meet your daughter."