The baby’s first cry shattered the quiet, filling the sterile room with new life. But Olivia didn’t glance at the bassinet. Instead, she stared at the ceiling, her head shaking. As Elise leaned in to offer comfort, Olivia gripped her wrist and whispered, her voice quivering, “Please… don’t tell him yet.”
“Don’t tell whom, sweetheart?” Elise asked gently, but Olivia didn’t respond. Her fingers tightened around Elise’s wrist, then fell away, limp with exhaustion. The doctor and nurse exchanged uncertain looks. Protocol required them to notify the family, but Olivia’s plea made them hesitate.
As the rest of the team went about their post-delivery tasks, Elise stayed by Olivia’s side. Her breathing slowed, but her eyes stayed wide open—glassy, distant, fixed on a private fear only she seemed to see. The nurse adjusted Olivia’s blanket carefully, mindful of the toll her body had endured.
Hours later, when the ward had settled into its quiet midnight rhythm, Elise returned to check on Olivia’s vitals. “Would you like me to call someone?” she asked softly. Olivia blinked once, then turned her head away. “No,” she whispered. “No one for now.”
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