The soft ticking of the clock filled the quiet room. Floyd, still in his work clothes, lay on the couch with his sleeping daughter on his chest. He gently held her, listening to her soft breaths. He’d been there for hours, afraid to move, and had even dozed off. She finally woke, her brown eyes meeting his. Seeing he wasn’t her mother, her lip quivered. He reassured her, “No, no, it’s Daddy.” He soothed her with a bottle of milk, then took her to the window, letting the fresh air touch her face. He gently caressed her cheek, and she smiled, grabbing his wedding ring. He chuckled, taking it from her, explaining that rings aren’t for eating. He put the ring back on and greeted his wife, Anon, at the door with a kiss, still holding their daughter.