where only the sweetest words remain

chapter twelve

January 2032

Christmas and the new year blur together in a busy whirlwind of joy and excitement. It's Eva's first holiday season, after all, so between baking catastrophes and way too many presents for an infant and sparklers and more parties, there's hardly a chance to rest.

Thankfully, after King's Day, things finally begin to wind back down. January means that life is finally calmer and quieter again, with nothing exhilarating going on whatsoever.

"Carla, come here! Now! Hurry!"

Or so Carla thought.

This Sunday has gone by as mundane as any other so far. She, Samuel, and Eva took a quick trip to the grocery store this morning, and the rest of the day was spent catching up on chores around the apartment. She's in the middle of washing used bottles and other random dishes when she hears Samuel calling out for her from down the hall, voice loud and urgent.

Eva's health has been completely fine lately, and although she was an unbelievably tiny thing in the months after her birth, she's started to put on a cute layer—or two—of baby fat. Still, Carla's natural reaction at the moment is to panic. Immediately, she turns the faucet off and rushes towards the nursery, her heart lodging itself in her throat as her stomach makes anxious flips.

"What is it? Is she oka—?"

Carla isn't sure what she'd been expecting to find before rounding the corner into her daughter's room. Eva hurt, sick again, maybe even worse. There were a whole bunch of different nightmarish possibilities running around inside of her mind, not a single one of them good.

And not a single one of them involved Samuel on all fours, crawling back and forth in front of Eva on the fluffy throw carpet either, but that's exactly the scene that she walks into. Carla sighs in relief, then instantly fills up with irritation because of how scared he'd made her over nothing.

"Damn it, Samuel, you can't do that to me, I almost had a heart attack," she snaps, running a hand through her hair.

He doesn't seem fazed by her tone of voice. Actually, he doesn't even seem to be registering what she's saying at all, instead indicating to their child. "Look!"

Her eyes avert to Eva, and she raises an eyebrow. The baby, while adorable, isn't really doing anything of note besides lying on her belly, jerking her arms and legs about in that restlessly experimental way that infants do, and drooling into the carpet.

"Okay?" Carla says, confused.

"She's crawling!" Samuel insists, shuffling into a normal criss-cross sitting position. His shoulders slump once he notices Carla's unimpressed expression. "At least, she was trying to crawl before you came in here."

Carla's eyes widen, a bolt of excitement pulsing through her as she approaches and plops down onto the floor next to him. "Really?"

He nods eagerly. "I had her down for tummy time and she started to push herself up. Then she crawled a step forward before immediately falling over."

Eva's been managing to get on her hands and knees by herself for a month now, although she's never done more than that. They've been encouraging her to crawl, but her little limbs usually give out after a few seconds.

Until now, apparently.

"And you didn't think to record it?" Carla chastises.

"Excuse me for being excited, it all happened fast," he replies in exasperation. "Besides, she was back on her stomach before I would've been able to grab my—"

Carla suddenly clutches at his arm. "Shush, I think she's doing it again!"

Babbling nonsense to herself, Eva rocks back and forth in that telltale way she does right when she's about to push onto her knees. Sure enough, she plants her hands in the carpet and shakily begins to bear her weight, Carla and Samuel watching with bated breaths.