NOAH.
The room is quiet again. Not the kind of quiet that brings relief, but the kind that settles after something has been torn apart.
Machines lie overturned, wires hanging loose, equipment scattered across the floor like debris after a storm. The air still feels charged, like Sierra’s screams are lingering somewhere in the walls.
I can still hear her and at this point I don’t think I’ll ever stop hearing her.
She lies on the bed now, restrained moments ago, sedated, her body finally still after everything she just put herself through. Her face is tear-streaked, her chest rising and falling unevenly as the medication pulls her under.
It took five people to hold her down… Five… And even then, it felt like we were barely containing her.
My jaw tightens as I watch her, my hands curling into fists at my sides. I force myself to stay where I am, to not move, because if I take even one step closer, I’m not sure what will happen. If I do, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep myself from breaking down completely.
The doctor is speaking. I know he is because I can see his lips moving and can hear the low hum of his voice somewhere in the background, but none of the words make sense. They don’t land. They don’t register because all I can see is Sierra. All I can hear is her voice breaking as she begged for our child.
Our child… The thought hits harder than any punch.
I drag a hand over my face, trying to steady myself, trying to hold everything in place before it cracks open. I don’t get that luxury. Not right now.
Across the room, Lilly is crying quietly, her shoulders shaking as she tries to comfort Sierra’s mother, who looks like she’s barely holding on. Her eyes are red, her hands trembling as she keeps repeating something under her breath that I can’t quite make out.
I should say something. I should do something, but I can’t seem to move.
I didn’t want this child.
The truth presses. I didn’t want her. I fought against it. I told her to get rid of her. I pushed her away, made it clear that this wasn’t something I wanted in my life.
Even when I found out the truth, I’d not fully embraced the baby because I was adjusting to the idea without Chloe’s guilt dragging me down, but then I saw her. Saw how tiny she was. Felt her soft skin as I caressed her cheeks, and just like that I was a goner. Just like with the twins I feel in love with her at first sight… But I failed to protect her.
This isn’t supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to be taken, but she was and I hate myself for not protecting her. I hate myself for not watching over her.
The sound of wheels pulls me back.

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