Karissa takes a deep breath and closes her eyes for a second.
“Just pressure,” I murmur, leaning in close. “You’re doing so good.”
I wipe away a few more of her stray tears, and then, suddenly, there’s a sharp cry echoing through the room.
They lift the baby above the curtain for us to see. She’s red-faced, screaming, pissed at the world. But Karissa’s sobbing now with a smile, her hands still bound, chest heaving.
Something cracks in me. A breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding rushes out all at once. My throat tightens. My eyes burn.
They bring her around the curtain then, wrapped in a white blanket, red-faced, white stuff sticking on her skin and still screaming.
“Here she is, Mama,” one of the nurses says, lowering her down close to Karissa’s face. Their cheeks touching.
Karissa’s tears don’t let up, “H-hi, baby,” she whispers, her voice thin, almost broken.
Emma just screams louder, her tiny jaw trembling with each cry. The tickle behind my eyes comes fast, and I blink hard, pushing it away.
Something about watching this baby appear in the world, hearing her, seeing how small she is, is undoing me in a way I wasn’t ready for.
“Well, her lungs sound good,” the nurse says with a light laugh, adjusting Emma’s blanket.
I laugh once, still staring at her. But Karissa doesn’t laugh. She doesn’t even smile. She’s still got tears in her eyes, but her breaths are getting weird—shorter, shallow.
“Hey,” I murmur, brushing her hair back. “You okay?”
Her eyes flutter.
“Karissa?”
Her mouth falls slack. Her head tips slightly. And then everything starts beeping. Sharp, high-pitched alarms. One, then two. Fast. Urgent.
“Pressure’s dropping,” someone says, and it’s suddenly chaos.
The nurse holding Emma disappears from view. A second later, someone else is shouting for a crash cart. I’m shoved to the side, barely catching myself as bodies flood the space around her.
“What’s happening?” I bark. “What’s going on?”
A doctor grabs something off the tray. “Possible hemorrhage. Hang another unit, now.”
I can’t see her anymore. The curtain’s still drawn, but now even her face is out of sight.
I walk over to where they took Emma and stand there, frozen, fists clenched, heart pounding so loud it drowns everything else out.
“Please,” I whisper, too quiet for anyone to hear. I stare at Emma who’s finally stopped screaming. “Please, God. Don’t take her.”
Chapter 12
Cody
I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here.
Long enough for my legs to go numb and for Emma to doze off as she is settled against my chest, like she knows I’m the safest place she’s got right now.
I don’t have a shirt on. I forget their reasoning…something about her body temperature? I don’t know. I just stripped and did what they said.
She’s tiny. I’ve lifted weights heavier than her but she’s somehow the heaviest thing I’ve ever held.
The room’s quiet except for the beeping monitor somewhere behind me. The lights are dim now that the chaos from earlier is over. Everything’s still, and calm. Well, except for me.
