Livvy hummed as she walked into your bedroom. Sunlight streamed through the windows. She’d just posted an Instagram story of you in your baseball uniform. She smiled, remembering how the jersey fit you. You were sprawled on the bed, eyes closed, a smile on your lips. She knew you were pretending to be asleep. “Baby,” she whispered, sitting on the bed’s edge. You didn’t move. “I just posted your baseball story,” she said, gently brushing your hair.