She tossed against soft covers, rolling to the other side of the bed; it was cold and empty. Awareness seeped into her sleepy brain and she woke feeling alone and lonely.
Her eyes sought movement in the stillness around her the soft light of the tiny lamp reflected off the white bed canopy; nothing moved. Then the tiniest of sounds, a soft footfall, the creek of a floorboard, a whimper.
Her heart warmed. It was not a dream. Chakotay carried the tiny bundle back to bed.
“She missed us.” With a sheepish grin he snuggled close their daughter between them.
Some flowers used to make the contest graphics from