Chapter 18 - The First Cry
The drive to the hospital took nineteen minutes. I know because I watched the clock between contractions and accused Tessa of driving like a grandmother.
"You want to take the wheel?" she asked.
"Not unless you want to deliver this baby in a ditch."
We both laughed, and then I cried, because I was scared of something good happening. I had almost forgotten good things were allowed.
My care team had already flagged the privacy concerns. The nurse checked my identification, confirmed Tessa was my designated support person, and assured me that nobody could simply walk in because they shared my last name.
Labor was slow. My healing arm made every position awkward. I apologized every time I asked for another pillow.
"Stop apologizing for needing help," the nurse said. "You're doing hard work."
At dawn, after hours of effort and one final push, a girl arrived with a furious cry and a shock of dark hair.
"She's here," the doctor said.
They laid her against my chest. She was warm, slippery, and absolutely real. My good arm curved around her tiny back.
"Hi, June," I whispered. "I've been looking for you."
Tessa wiped tears from her cheeks. On the bedside table lay the photograph of June Parker. For one breath, the two Junes occupied the same small patch of morning light.
I gave my daughter my maiden surname, Hale. Dana had explained that a name didn't decide custody or erase legal parentage. Those questions would be handled through proper proceedings with safety at the center. But I was allowed to choose what to write on the birth paperwork.
We went home three days later. June slept against me while Tessa unpacked a bag of groceries and told me I'd have to learn to rest.
A letter arrived from Ethan through his attorney. He wanted to see the baby. He said prison would ruin his life and that I owed him one more chance to be a father.
May you like
At the bottom, in his handwriting, were six words.
Tell her I never meant it.
