Evan feels the numbness taking over his mind. His baby’s gone. Erin’s gone. Little Erin Jamie Alexander who was so loved and wanted, who was their other little miracle, and who will never get a chance to laugh or cry now. Oh God. He waits for the racking sobs to come again, but only silent tears slides down his cheeks. Regret and sadness fills his heart, nothing more. He mentally punches himself hard, trying to evoke grief and despair, but nothing comes. What kind of a father am I? Erin’s dead. The thought makes him cringe a little, and more tears slides down his cheeks. But in a little corner of his mind, a tiny voice couldn’t resist finishing that thought with gladness. But Tilly’s alive and she’s fine! Does anything else matters?
He immediately pinches his arm, hating himself for even thinking that thought. Of course he loves Erin. But he’d only known Erin for seven months, or rather an Erin that he and Tilly thought their baby would be. And when he doesn’t know the real Erin at all, how can he truly grieve for her?