Naomi's POV
The hum of machines had become a lullaby to my eating, I was tired of it but I didn't have a choice.
I woke up to it—soft beeps, distant murmurs from the hallway, the faint shuffle of nurses in rubber-soled shoes. My room smelled like antiseptic and flowers—someone had sent lilies. Probably Beatrice. Or maybe Kendra. I didn’t ask.
The sun filtered in through a narrow slit in the blinds, painting soft stripes across the white hospital blanket. I could barely move. My body ached in places I hadn’t known could ache. Every breath pulled at something beneath my ribs.
But the worst pain wasn’t physical.
It was the emptiness,
My arms were still empty, my baby was meant to be in my arms, sucking my breast and bonding with me.
I knew Aurora was alive, she was Breathing, she was
