They had spent the whole summer acting careful. My mother clipped coupons in front of me and sighed over grocery prices. My father shook his head when I suggested one quiet weekend away together, like I had asked him to buy a second house instead of share a motel room and a diner breakfast. “This summer we’re staying in,” Mom told me. “It’s just too much.” I believed her because believing them had become a reflex, even after years of little disappointments. They knew I kept one reserve account for emergencies, and they knew my health was the reason I guarded it like oxygen. At 3:08 in the morning, my phone buzzed hard enough to wake me. The notification said $9,860 had been withdrawn from my reserve fund. I sat up so fast the room tilted, opened the banking app, and watched my own life turn into someone else’s vacation. There were first-class flights to Mykonos. There was a luxury suite, a private driver, designer shops, spa treatments, and restaurant holds that cost more than my rent. Every charge use

“I need you to do something,” she said.

Julian straightened.

“Anything.”

“Go to the nurses’ station. Help them move patients away from the stairwells.”

He stared at her.

“You don’t want me here?”

“No.”

The answer hurt them both.

“But I don’t want you running either.”

Julian nodded slowly.

For once, he did not argue.

He looked at Audrey’s stomach, then at her face.

“I am sorry.”

She said nothing.

He turned and walked toward the nurses’ station.

Seraphina watched him leave.

“Do you believe him?”

“About room 314?”

“About being sorry.”

Audrey leaned back as the contraction eased.

“I believe he is sorry.”

“That isn’t the same as forgiveness.”

“No.”

Elena began moving the bed again.

“That can wait,” she said gently. “Right now, we take care of you and your son.”

They entered the neonatal wing.

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