Emily pressed both hands against the thick visitation glass.
Tears streamed down her face.
On the other side, a correctional officer carefully held her baby close enough for the little boy to see her.
The baby reached toward the glass.
Emily immediately lifted her hand.
Hi, sweetheart.
The baby touched the other side with his tiny palm.
Emily broke down.
She had imagined this moment every night since entering prison.
The smell of his hair.
The weight of him in her arms.
The way he used to fall asleep against her chest.
Now a wall of glass separated them.
The officer looked away, giving her a few seconds of privacy.
Emily smiled through tears.
You got so big.
The baby stared at her.
Then he smiled.
Emily covered her mouth.
For one brief moment, the gray visitation room disappeared.
There was only her son.
Then the officer behind Emily stepped closer.
Time is almost up.
Emily’s smile faded.
She pressed her forehead against the glass.
Not yet.
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