I curled up next to him, after the books, after the prayer where we held our hands together, his eyes shut tight.
“Do you want me to tell baby sister anything for you?” as I kissed his soft cheek one more time.
With his eyes half closed, a smile escaping through parted lips, his warm hand in mine,
“Tell her…” he whispered, “tell her we’re going to bring her home.”
“Ok, Finley,” I smiled.
“And tell her,” he added, just above a sleepy whisper, “Tell her she’s going to like her home.”