“I'm glad they acknowledged it.”
Margaret began crying softly.
“I wish it had happened sooner.”
“So do I.”
She took a breath.
“Thank you for listening.”
Daniel looked toward Jonathan's photograph on his desk.
“Thank you for not giving up.”
After the call, Daniel remained seated for a long time.
Then Natalie appeared in the doorway.
She carried two mugs of tea.
“Good news?”
He looked up.
“Some.”
She handed him a mug.
He smiled faintly.
“Enough for tonight.”
Natalie sat beside him.
They drank quietly.
Then she took his hand and placed it against her stomach.
Daniel looked at her.
For a moment, he did not understand.
Natalie smiled.
“I was going to tell you at dinner.”
He stared.
“Natalie?”
Her eyes filled.
“Yes.”
He stopped breathing.
“Are you—”
She nodded.
“We're having a baby.”
Daniel looked down at his hand.
Then back at her.
For once in his life, the man who could calmly handle hostile interrogations, complex financial evidence, and courtroom testimony had absolutely no words.
Natalie laughed through tears.
“Say something.”
Daniel blinked.
Then laughed.
A deep, disbelieving laugh.
He pulled her into his arms.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
He kissed her forehead.
Then her cheeks.
Then her forehead again.
She laughed.
“Daniel!”
He held her carefully.
For a long time, neither spoke.
Then he whispered, “I'm going to be a father.”
Natalie nodded.
“Yes.”
He closed his eyes.
His own father's face appeared in his mind.
The graduation photograph.
The scarred hands.
The quiet advice.
The man who had taught him what responsibility meant.
Daniel felt tears slip down his cheeks.
Natalie touched his face.
“Hey.”
He smiled through tears.
“I'm okay.”
She laughed softly.
“You don't look okay.”
“I'm better than okay.”
He rested his forehead against hers.
Then looked down at her stomach.
For years, he had spent so much energy thinking about people whose lives had been damaged by cruelty.
Now he was holding someone who carried the beginning of a life he had never met.
And suddenly the future felt enormous.
The months that followed were filled with ordinary joys and ordinary fears.
Doctors' appointments.
Preparations.
Late-night conversations about names.
Arguments about nursery colors.
Furniture assembly.
Lists of supplies.
Daniel read parenting books.
Natalie teased him for taking notes.
He measured the nursery window three times before ordering curtains.
He installed the child's car seat, removed it, and installed it again after deciding he had not followed the instructions precisely enough.
Natalie laughed.
“You investigate financial crimes with less paperwork than this.”
Daniel looked offended.