I lifted myself onto my elbows to see.
So small.
So perfectly formed.
The tiny architecture of a person not yet ready for the world—limbs no bigger than my finger, the smaller spots where hands and feet were becoming themselves, a heartbeat pulsing on the screen like a declaration.
And not mine. Not unless I became less.
The thought arrived like being thrown into ice water. I pushed it down and kept my eyes on the screen.
The nurse talked through the measurements.
Slightly small.
Heartbeat perfect.
I couldn’t look away from the tiny limbs. From the hands and feet still finding their shape. From the life on the screen that had been growing inside me for weeks without my permission and had arrived anyway, fully committed, entirely itself.
“So beautiful,” I croaked.
My voice came out wrong. Too raw. Too much.
The nurse smiled and told me she would print a picture.
Behind me, he cleared his throat.
He never said a word. I hadn’t expected him to. He was here to ensure his cargo was in good condition. To confirm the investment was progressing on schedule.
That was all this was.
I kept my eyes on the screen until the image disappeared.
??????
The warmer weather had arrived but it didn’t stop a gust of icy cold wind from hitting my face as I stepped out of the clinic. It felt like a reminder from reality—that Chernograd would give you something and take it back before you’d finished being grateful for it.
Radovan flicked his cigarette into the road, earning a sharp glare from a staff member walking past. Tau opened the rear passenger door and I disappeared gratefully inside.
I didn’t look back at the building or Vadim.
I sat with my purse on my lap and contemplated my next steps. All my vitals were normal so far. Blood pressure fine, for now—something I had joked about in the early days of this marriage as a negotiating tactic and was now monitoring in earnest. Life had a certain sense of humour.
“Did it not go well?” Tau asked from the front.
I glanced up. Radovan’s eyes were already watching me in the rearview mirror. Gearing up to file his report, no doubt.
“It went very well,” I said, and opened my purse.
I carefully took out the scan picture and held it forward.
Tau leaned back to take it from me. He studied it for a long moment — longer than I expected. The car was quiet except for the sound of the engine and the spring wind finding the gaps in the doors.
When he handed it back he didn’t meet my eyes.
“You are blessed,” he murmured, and faced forward again.
I looked down at the picture with a smile I hadn’t planned on.
