“Oh, come on, pebble! It’s not that bad, right? It’s the perfect temperature for a little thing like you, and it’s strawberry! Your favorite!”

His brow was furrowed as he held your swaddled form in his arms, trying to push the nib of the large baby bottle he held into your mouth.

That stupid swaddle. It was too soft, and such a vivid blue color it nearly hurt your eyes. You could hardly move—the stretchy fabric was restricting your movement.

But it didn’t stop you from struggling.