Two days later of sailing: "East channel port; Kesey Schwarz."
The gruff path of the ship's docking put me on edge, especially the shouts of the sailors informing the people of the East who they were and what they were not. Enea slept peacefully with his face in the crook of my neck, and his little arms tightened around my shoulders in search of handholds for support. I stroked my sleeping baby's back as I looked at Houston out of the corner of my eye and gave a half smile.