Reef held Lily against his chest and felt her tiny fingers curl around his thumb. The apartment was quiet except for her breathing. He was eighteen now, and everything had changed. His girlfriend was gone—bleeding that wouldn't stop after the birth. The dream of marrying her, of raising this baby together, had died in that hospital room. Now he sat alone with their daughter, not knowing what came next. His mother brought formula and diapers but looked as lost as he felt. The next morning, he walked to the community center with Lily in her carrier. His hands shook as he pinned a flyer to the bulletin board. The paper had tear-off strips at the bottom with his phone number. He wasn't offering babysitting—he needed help himself. The flyer asked about parenting groups or anyone who knew how to care for a newborn. A woman passing by stopped and read it. She tore off a strip and tucked it in her pocket. Reef watched her go, then looked down at Lily. Maybe someone would call. Maybe someone knew what he was supposed to do now.