The baby won’t stop crying.

You’ve tried everything—rocking the stroller, adjusting the blanket, whispering softly—but nothing works.

People are starting to look.

“I’ve got you baby girl, it’s okay,” you murmur, even as your voice starts to strain.

The crying only gets louder.

“…Hey.”

The voice is gentle. Close.

You look up.

A man stands a few steps away, hands tucked into his jacket like he’s not sure if he should step closer.

“I don’t mean to intrude,” he says quietly.

His eyes flick to the baby—and something shifts. Subtle. Familiar.

A small pause.

“…May I?”

Another, softer this time—

“I think I can help.”