The hospital monitors hummed softly, almost polite compared to the chaos at the foot of her bed. Isabella held her newborn, still flushed and trembling from birth, while her in-laws dropped divorce papers on her blanket like a sentence. Her husband wouldn’t look at her, the mistress flaunted her wedding ring, and someone reached for her baby—right before the door burst open and everything shifted.
The fluorescent lights ticked softly overhead, the sharp bite of antiseptic folding into the sweet, warm breath of milk. Isabella Cruz held her newborn son, Luca, to her chest—skin to skin, his tiny heartbeat skittering like a damp fledgling. The hospital door opened, and a storm walked in on four pairs of shoes: Daniel—her husband—eyes … Read more