The Truth Scrawled on the Form
As Eleanor efficiently organized the discharge papers, Clara approached the bed, holding the official birth certificate form. Eleanor’s presence seemed to suck the air out of the room.
“Lily, we need the father’s name for the certificate,” Clara said softly.
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Eleanor stopped folding a blanket, turning a chilling stare on the nurse. “I told you, she is under enough stress. We will deal with that paperwork later.”
“It has to be filed before discharge, ma’am. It’s Lily’s legal right to name the father,” Clara insisted, handing the pen to the teen.
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