“We need to know if this was… expected,” he finally said, the word “expected” landing awkwardly, as if it didn’t quite fit what he meant.
“Expected by who?” I asked, my voice quieter now, steadier, though inside me something was beginning to fracture along invisible lines.

He didn’t respond immediately, and in that silence, I heard something else — the echo of all the months we had trusted everything to go right.
The contracts, the appointments, the polite reassurances from doctors, the calm smiles that made everything feel controlled, predictable, safe.
Safe. The word felt hollow now, like a shell I had been carrying without realizing it was empty.
Sophia’s cry grew louder, pulling me back, and instinctively I reached for her, lifting her gently from the water, wrapping her in a soft towel.
Her skin was warm, her body small against mine, and for a moment, everything else faded, replaced by something simpler, something undeniable.
She was ours.
That truth settled differently than anything else in the room, heavier, more grounded, cutting through the noise of fear with quiet insistence.
“She’s just a baby,” I said, almost to myself, though I knew he could hear it, the words carrying more than reassurance, almost defiance.
He looked at me then, really looked, his expression softening for a fraction of a second before tightening again under the weight of his thoughts.
“You don’t understand,” he said, and there was something almost pleading in it now, like he wanted me to believe him without explanation.
“Then help me understand,” I replied, holding Sophia closer, feeling her small fingers curl against the fabric, anchoring me in the present.
Another pause. Longer this time.
“I can’t,” he said finally, and that answer, more than anything else, sent a quiet ripple of unease through me.
Not won’t. Can’t.
The difference lingered in the air between us, subtle but unmistakable, like a door that had just closed without a sound.
I turned slightly, adjusting Sophia in my arms, and as I did, my eyes fell once more on the mark on her back.