Saliou was holding Milou for what seemed like hours, until there was a soft tapping at the door.

He looked back at Wren watching him, standing in the door, looking forlorn. "Sal... It's time to go."

Saliou gently put Milou back down on the stainless table, then straightened up and turned around to face Wren. He had this look about him that told the other he didn't want to be disturbed.

Wren lowered his head, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. "The baby's doing as well as can be expected," he announced. "They're preparing to move her over to the nursery now."

Saliou slowly eased his expression. "C-Can we see her?" he asked gently.

Wren nodded. "Briefly. Later we can have more time with her once all the tests are done."

For a moment, Saliou didn't respond. He turned to look at Milou once more, taking in all the familiar details, committing them to memory.

Slowly he bent his head down, kissed the still, cold body of his twin brother on the forehead. "Rest well, dear brother..." he whispered softly before pulling the white sheet up, covering Milou's pale, white face.

Saliou slowly got up as he placed a hand to his mouth, turning toward the door. Silently he stepped outside the morgue to join Wren.

His heart rumbled as he breathed heavily. He straightened his head, focusing his gaze on Wren's melancholy face. They walked wearily to the exit until they could see the bright light in the lobby.

They were silent throughout their walk, up until they stepped into the elevator then rode up the short distance onto the third floor. Just gazing out through tears. Not seeing. Not hearing. Not speaking. Not daring to feel.

Both Saliou and Wren were numb. Perhaps this was just some horrible nightmare that they'd wake up from any moment now.

When they stepped out of the elevator and reached the hallway leading up to the NICU, Saliou found the courage to break the silence.

"Have you seen your daughter?" he asked Wren.

No words from the other. Wren just shook his head.

"You care for your daughter, don't you, Wren?"

Wren winced at the other's question. "Of course." He finally found his voice. "I love her. I love her with all my heart."

Saliou managed to give him a soft smile, one that brought warmth to his chilled heart.

"What you can do for Milou, right now, is to take good care of your daughter. That's all any mother would want."

Wren listened while Saliou talked to him quietly as they walked toward the NICU – to his daughter.

The doctor in-charge of baby girl Dumont filled them in on her medical status. The baby was a little small, only three pounds two ounces. But other than that, she was, to all appearances, a perfectly healthy full-term baby.

As they listened to the doctor's report, Saliou became aware that they were standing right in front of the nursery window. He turned and began trying to read the tags on the bassinets.

One of the attending nurses happened to pass by and noticed him, then came to the door.

"Sorry, Sir. You can see your baby in a couple hours. Visiting time's between nine and twelve o'clock." The nurse began to lower the Venetian blinds.

Wren stepped in. "Please," he pleaded, "it's my daughter. She was born earlier this morning. Her... Her mother passed away after giving birth, and..."

The look of sorrow on the other's face touched the nurse. "I'm so sorry for your loss," she said contritely. "Well, perhaps just a peek then."

"Thank you," Wren waited expectantly.

"Your name, please, sir?"

"Oh. It's Dumont."

"Dumont," the attending nurse repeated after him. "Give me a minute."

Turning away, the nurse walked back into the nursery and among the rows of pink and blue bassinets. A few moments later, the nurse stepped back out and stood in the doorway, carrying a tiny bundle wrapped in a pastel pink blanket.

"I'll give you a couple of minutes to be with her," said the nurse as she slowly laid the baby in Wren's arms.

Wren just stood there, arms a little shaky, trying to hold the baby as securely as he could. Saliou turned away for a moment, afraid he'd see him accidentally dropping the tiny bundle.

"Uhm, can I hold her?" Saliou finally asked, stretching out his arms, reaching for the baby. "You know, the way you have to hold their head and neck steady when they're so tiny, you just have to be extra-careful."

"S-Sorry," Wren whispered as he carefully handed the baby over to Saliou.

That moment – that precious moment Wren placed the baby in Saliou's arms, he cried.

He cried because she was healthy. He cried because she briefly opened her eyes and looked into his. He cried because he wanted to hold her forever. This precious little one that was safely brought into the world by his beloved brother.

Saliou's lips quivered. "Hello, pretty one," he muttered as he felt hot tears prick his cheeks.

He wanted to see more of her, so he began unwrapping the layers of coverings. She was so tiny and her arms and legs were spindly. Wispy, chestnut hair jutted out of the top of her tiny head, rosy pink cheeks, big eyes like her mother's, and tiny, thin lips like her father's.

"Look at her... She's so perfect. So beautiful..." Saliou sobbed. He held the little girl gently, cradling her, caring for her neck, expecting her to be limp like any newborn baby.

But her fingers slowly curled around Saliou's finger. She held onto him and pushed herself close enough to his chest that he didn't even have to put his hand behind her neck.

She looked at Saliou square in the eyes. Newborn babies' unseeing eyes would usually go wandering in all directions, but this strong little girl stared at Saliou directly, wide-eyed and smiling. It looked like a smile of radiant recognition. It was like she was saying, "I found you!"

Saliou's heart felt full. That very moment, he promised he would take care of her. He would protect her. Love her as if she were his own.

She was named Florence Dahlia and for Saliou and Wren, she is a blessing in full measure.