The nurse nodded, but I could see by her expression she still didn’t understand. Before leaving, she glanced at Stella with pity reflecting in her eyes. I planted my feet on the floor, stopping the chair. Stella fussed, and I patted her back while deep in thought. Stella was loved before she was even born, a shiny new nursery and a full bookshelf waiting for her at home. That someone would feel sympathy for our daughter had never crossed my mind. We were fully capable of surviving whatever the Bureau put in our paths, but now I wondered how it would affect Stella.
“Did you call your dad?” Liis asked.
“Earlier.”
“Everybody else?”
“I asked Dad to give it a day. I don’t want to spend all day on the phone.”
Liis sat back and closed her eyes. “I guess as an only child, I don’t think about things like that,” she murmured before drifting off.
I draped a thick cloth over my shoulder and then supported Stella’s head while I positioned her against my chest. I pushed off on my feet again, and the recliner swayed back and forth. The rhythmic squeaking made my eyes feel heavier, and I noticed Liis breathing more deeply.
I touched my cheek to Stella’s soft hair. She was so innocent and vulnerable, and Liis knew as well as I did just how much evil was in the world we’d brought her in to. It was our responsibility to keep her safe.
I looked over at my sleeping girlfriend and then over at my sports jacket that covered my shoulder holster. Two standard-issue Sig Sauer 9mms were snugly hidden away, ready for anything. I knew Liis had one tucked into Stella’s baby bag, too. I swayed back and forth, resting my head and trying to let the tight muscles in my neck relax. Even after Stella had settled down and I had lain her in the bassinet, I couldn’t stop my ears from cataloging every sound from the hall—the soda machine, the elevators, the nurses checking on patients in the other rooms. Babies crying, the agents murmuring, and the vent kicking on. Unlike Liis, even when I wanted to sleep, I couldn’t.
I reached for Liis’s pitcher of water and poured myself a cup. I would sleep when she woke. Too much was at stake. Not even the agents outside would protect Stella as fiercely, so one of us had to be awake at all times.
Raindrops spattered against the window as I triple checked the baby’s bag and readied the car seat while Liis signed the discharge papers. The nurse watched us with careful curiosity, likely hearing gossip about the armed agents standing guard outside our room all night and the fresh pair of agents assigned to escort us home that morning.
Liis cradled Stella in one arm while signing the various documents. She’d been a mother for less than forty-eight hours and was already an expert. I smiled at her until she motioned for me to take Stella. I walked over, trying not to show my excitement at my turn to hold the tiny, soft human we’d created.
I lifted Stella into my arms and then walked the few steps to the car seat that sat on the floor. “Shit,” I hissed, trying to maneuver the baby under the handlebar and into the small space like a puzzle piece. Stella didn’t stir while I struggled with the five-point harness and fussed over the padding that covered the shoulder straps and the pillow around her head.
“Thomas,” Liis said with a small laugh. “It’s perfect. If she wasn’t comfortable, she would tell you.”
“You sure?” I asked, glancing back at Liis. With every milestone of our relationship, I continued to be in awe that just when I thought she couldn’t be more beautiful, she was. The day we moved in together in San Diego, the day she told me we were having Stella, the day I finally moved to Virginia, and every day I noticed her belly was a little bit rounder and her cheeks a little fuller—I felt like a con for somehow misleading her into marrying me. While she labored, and then when she gave birth, and now, sitting up and looking tired but gloriously happy in the morning sun, the mother of my child was once again the most beautiful I’d ever seen her.
Liis breathed out a laugh. “What?”
“You know what.” I stood, carefully bringing the car seat with me. “Ready?”
Once Liis nodded, the nurse pushed the wheelchair next to her bed. Liis stood, unhappy about being fussed over while she moved over to her next mode of transport, but it was hospital policy, and Liis had always liked to pick her battles.
Wearing a blue button-down and gray maternity pants, Liis let the nurse push her toward the door. I opened it and nodded to the agents, Brubaker and Hyde.
Liis couldn’t restrain her smug smile, recognizing both agents were female. “You know what I’m thinking, right?” she asked me.
“That women are better drivers and better with a gun, so you’re happy about our escorts?”
“Correct,” Liis said.
Brubaker smiled too.
After I secured Stella into her car seat and helped Liis into the backseat of our Suburban, I slid behind the wheel, signaling to the agents to move forward. Brubaker was ahead of us in a black Tahoe, and Hyde was behind in an identical vehicle. I rolled my eyes. “Are they trying to announce our exit, or do they think the mafia is stupid?”
“I don’t know,” Liis said, leaning forward to see into the side mirror.
“All clear?” I asked.
“So far.”
“What is it?” I asked, seeing the concern in Liis’s eyes.
“I don’t know that yet, either.”
I reached back to pat her knee. “It’s going to be okay, Mommy.”
She craned her neck. “Please let’s not be that couple who calls each other Daddy and Mommy.”
I frowned. “How else will Stella learn what to call us?”
Liis sighed, a rare concession. “Fine. Just … only do it around her, but not in public.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said with an amused grin.
Liis leaned back, appearing relaxed, but I knew better. She continued to periodically lean over to glance in the rearview mirror and then down at Stella.
“How’s she doing?” I asked.
“We need one of those mirrors that sits above the car seat so you can see her in the rearview,” Liis said. “What if one of us is in the car with her alone? We’ll need some way to check on her.”
“Making a mental note now,” I assured her.
She closed her eyes for half a second before they popped open again to look at the side mirror. She gave it a second glance and instantly metamorphosed from tired new mother to FBI agent. “White sedan, four back. Left lane.”
I glanced back. “Got it.” I touched the radio on my lapel. “We’ve got a tail. White sedan. Left lane.”
“Copy that,” Hyde said.
Brubaker radioed in, and we barely drove two miles before receiving word that more vehicles were on the way. Just before they arrived on-scene, the sedan took an exit.
“Make sure someone follows,” Liis said.
“Don’t worry,” I said, trying to remain calm. “They’re all over it.”
Liis swallowed, struggling to keep her cool. Being parents was an added security issue we couldn’t plan for. I knew part of her wanted to follow the sedan, to catch them and question them, and lock them away from our fragile new family. As urgent as her commitment was to being an agent, her need to protect our daughter was stronger.
We drove the remaining fifteen minutes home without event but were unable to enjoy our trip with our new addition as other new parents would. As we unhitched the car seat, the agents stood guard. Hyde and Brubaker glanced around, occasionally speaking into the small radios in their ears while Liis and I took our daughter to the porch. We waved to the neighbors and then walked up the stairs to the front door. Under the shade of the porch, I dug for my keys and then touched one to the lock.