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“All you have to do is nothing!” I shout at him as my heart thunders against my chest.
But it’s too late.
I cry out, my abs contract as a sharp pain pierces me from the inside. It reaches through my core, shattering my heart. I press my heels into the stirrups and clench my hands into fists. My tears burst through like a tsunami, finally showing themselves.
“Relax—Violet, you need to relax!” He calls to me, his words barely reaching me through the storm.
“How can you expect me to relax!” I pull against my restraints, sending my pain back into the world as I cry out.
Suction. Hmmm. Suction. Hmmm.
Click. Click. Click.
Suction. Hmmm. Suction. Hmmm.
Click. Click. Click.
Hmmm. Hmmm.
My face covered in tears and snot, my heart about to burst through my chest or seize. My breathing is erratic; I think I might pass out.
My body is shaking… When did the humming stop?
I look through the fog and pull my weary limbs; I’m free. When did he release the restraints? Grigori stands next to the bed, looking down at me.
“You’ll stay in the infirmary for a day or two while you recover.” His words are soft, then he turns around and places his hands on a second tray.
Her tray.
“Don’t touch her!” I roar, throwing myself from the bed, collapsing under my wobbly legs. “Don’t you dare fucking touch her!” My voice a raw, primal growl.
“Violet, I’m sorry.” He turns to me, but he doesn’t move out of the way.
“You’re sorry?” Gathering myself, I push past him, placing myself between him and my baby. My body is shaking, but my eyes stay on him. “You will never be sorry enough!”
“Let me take care of the remains,” he says, reaching towards her. I swat his arm away, then I lunge for him. My fingers curled like claws; I hit and grab at him, managing to send a long scratch down the side of his face before I’m too weak to go on. “I will kill you,” I say with a nod and a calm finality in the decision. My chest rises and falls quickly as I work to catch my breath. “Leave me. I don’t want to see you the rest of the time I’m here.”
He’s hanging his head like a sad puppy. Like I have hurt him.
I shove his shoulder, “Pull yourself together and own it. You did this.” I poke his shoulder. “Now get out.” With his head hung low, he leaves.
Cupping my face in my hands, I cry. Letting the tears fall for a few more minutes before focusing on my breath to calm myself. Blood drips down my legs and onto the floor in large, heavy clots. I don’t look, but I can feel them falling out of me. Once I’ve collected myself, I turn to the tray. And to the baby whom I was only able to protect in death. I step forward, sucking in a breath as I try to fight away my tears.
She’s all there. Her perfectly tiny head, arms, legs, fingers, toes… And yes, I can confirm that she is, in fact, a girl.
No mother should ever see their baby torn to pieces. Put back together like a puzzle, to make sure every piece is accounted for.
“I’m sorry that I couldn’t keep you safe, baby.”
Walking to the shelves, I grab a wooden box and dump the contents on the floor. Then I go to the drawer where we keep the baby blankets. I grab one, the one covered in little feet that we give to newborns. I set the box on the table and spread out the blanket, then I tenderly lift her piece by piece, and arrange her body on the blanket. I wrap her, swaddling her entire body to keep her together. Before I tuck in the end and cover her face, she almost looks like she’s still the way she should be.
I sit, holding her bundled body in my arms, rocking back and forth as I bleed out through the blankets. Through my shaky, fragile voice, I sing Au clair de la lune to her. My favorite lullaby. The one I sing to Aria, the one I would have sung to Cadence.
Only now, I sing to put her to sleep, for good.
When the song ends, I kiss her bundle and gently place her inside the box. I slide the cover on, latch it, then grab a marker and write.
Riah, don’t look. Just bury her. Call her Cadence.