late night at sea
She’s barely three weeks old when, in the middle of the night with her little lungs wearing out from all of the screaming and tears, Killian makes the decision to bring her out to the Jolly.
Emma, just as tired and fed up with the hours of trial and error, agrees to go, grabbing everything she can think she might need out on the ship before she slips into her shoes and cradles the baby against her chest, trying fruitlessly to stop her cries.
“She’ll be alright,” Killian assures her. “If she’s anything like her father, the sea will calm her.”