Helena fell silent once more.
She stared at Sebastian, her expression devoid of any major emotional ripples.
She had watched him sign his name.
She couldn't fathom how he could casually authorize their baby's death with such unflinching calm.
She could never do it.
On the drive over, she had tried to convince herself countless times.
She told herself to let Hope go peacefully.
But she simply couldn't bring herself to do it.
As the realization washed over her, a faint, breathy laugh escaped her lips.
It made sense, really.
To Sebastian, Hope was never a child; she was just a tool.
Whether that tool existed or not meant absolutely nothing to him.
Her quiet, self-mocking laughter echoed in the sterile room.
Sebastian heard it, but he kept his mouth shut.
"Do you wish to observe the process?" the clerk asked her gently.
He meant the cremation.
But he carefully avoided using the actual word.
Everyone was terrified Helena would suddenly lose her mind.
She stood perfectly still and nodded. "Yes."
Sebastian frowned, highly doubting her fragile state could handle watching the incinerator.
Without asking for permission, he reached out and firmly gripped her hand.
Helena felt the warmth of his skin.
But she didn't bother fighting him off.
Sebastian led her straight into the viewing gallery.
Hope's tiny body was loaded into the chamber.
A digital screen flashed above the heavy steel doors.
Female infant, 17 days old.
That was it. No name, no family, no other details.
The machine roared to life.
Everyone kept throwing cautious glances at Helena, but she just stood there.
She didn't move a single muscle.
Her empty gaze remained fixated on the roaring flames the entire time.
Even Sebastian realized how disturbing her reaction was.
She was too quiet.


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