Chapter 40. The Funerals

SASHA'S POV

I turned, blinking, and saw a tiny, red-faced newborn in Daniel’s arms, swaddled in a blue blanket. My stepdad rocked him awkwardly, his face soft but tired. My brain struggled to catch up. Then it clicked—Freya had gone into labor before... before everything fell apart.

I tried to stand from the cushioned chair I’d been placed in, but Daniel shook his head.

 “Easy, Sasha. You’re still shaky. Don’t make this harder on everyone.”

I sank back, leaning against the wall, my eyes fixed on the baby. He was so small, so fragile in Daniel’s strong arms.

 “Your brother,” Daniel said quietly. “Handsome little guy, huh? Got your eyes.”

I managed a weak smile at his attempt to lighten the mood. To me, my brother looked more like Dad, with a hint of Tara’s sharp cheekbones. But babies change fast, don’t they?

I glanced around the parlor, hoping for Mom or Sam, but it was just us. The room was dim, with flowers and condolence c