Page 41 of The Refiner

Carly laughs, and I almost tell her I’m lying. Tatum was perfectly content on Astor. What pissed her off was him handing her off to me, so I could be the bad guy and change her diaper. The kid would rather be wet than disturbed.

“This is the quietest she’s been.” Carly touches the top of her knit hat. “I think she just needed her family.”

Her family.

Me and her doctor daddy.

“I think she’s just enjoying the bourbon we slipped into her bottle.”

Carly pauses. “I’m kidding. She just likes me. I don’t know what’s wrong with her.”

She may have also melted my heart with the sweet coos and nasty looks she gives. This little girl might just be the only thing that has kept me from breaking completely—her and her manipulative father.

“Well,” Carly chuckles lightly, “I brought Astor’s copy of the birth certificate. Can you give it to him? I’m off duty in another hour.”

She extends the paper to me, and I hesitate to take it. “Is he supposed to do anything with it?” I don’t know how these things work. Hopefully, Astor does.

“We’ll file everything with the state. This is just a copy for his records.”

Seems simple enough. “Okay,” I say, taking the paper. “Thank you—you know, for everything. You’ve been very kind to us.”

Without warning, Carly leans over and hugs me right in the chair. “You take care of yourselves. We’re rooting for you.” And like she just didn’t say she was rooting for me like I was in the Olympics, she walks off.

I look down at Tatum, who hasn’t bothered to wake up. “Your father brings out the silly in people,” I tell her. Why else would Carly say something so weird? Only thoughts of Astor make people go squirrely. “Let’s see if she wrote her number down on your birth record.”

I said Carly was my favorite and acted the least wowed in Astor’s presence, but she could just be a great actress. I don’t put it past anyone.

Scanning the form, I start at the top and go line by line.

I don’t get far because Tatum’s name is at the very top.

Her full name.

Tatum Ruth McKellan Potter.

Mine and Piper’s tattoo…

Astor knew the significance.

And he kept the tradition.

And my sister’s last name.

Astor

“Someone has to do it.”

I’m fucking exhausted, so I don’t mean for my words to come out clipped at Halle. “No.”

“Astor,” Halle’s arms come around me in a hug, “I know you guys have been through the pits of hell the past week, but not only do I think Piper would want this, I think you both deserve this little piece of normalcy.”

I stare at the wheelchair. Its very presence disturbs me. “Nothing about this situation is normal, Hal. Let’s not pretend otherwise.”

“Fine,” Vance clips, stepping in, “how about you sit your ass down anyway. We’ll stop pretending, and you’ll stop being an asshole.” He pulls Halle away from me.

“I’m sorry, Hal. I didn’t mean—” I run my hands through my hair. “I just have no idea what to do right now.”

Halle offers me a soft smile, her gaze drifting to Keagan at my side. “I get it. This isn’t a normal situation, but you can salvage this small moment of joy.” She reaches over and takes Keagan’s hand. “You might not have birthed this little girl, but you’re the only family she has. She’s going home with both of you, where you will love her unconditionally, right?”

---