(Disclaimer: Just so I don't get sued: They're not mine.)
Rain comes down in sheets, pattering on everything it touches, driven by the wind.
She stands there, watching it through the window in the crib.
A tiny smile crosses her face, when I slip my arms around her. "We're working."
I answer by turning her chin up and kissing her. "You're not up here to watch the rain."
"No. I'm surprised he hasn't put more dents in the lockers," she says, dryly. "I don't even know why I bother – it's not like he hears me."
I let her lean her head on my shoulder. "I don't know either, Liv."