Rosalind looked toward the stairs. “She was born not long after,” she said quietly. “I didn’t even know I was pregnant.” Jack went still. Eight years. The mountains. A child the right age. He did the maths without wanting to. Sarah must have been pregnant. And neither of them had known. Upstairs, Willow laughed, and the sound of it hit Jack harder than it should have.
His daughter. His daughter had grown up without him. Rosalind wiped at her face. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I know that doesn’t mean much.” Before Jack could answer, Eli came halfway back down the stairs with Willow right behind him, both of them talking over each other about the rabbit. Eli looked happy. Not casual happy.