The silence of the hospital room was a new kind of prison.
The storm of labor was over. The adrenaline of Ethan's arrival had faded. The profound, anchoring love of his first smile had settled, replaced by the mundane, terrifying, 2 AM reality.
She was alone in a foreign country, in a room paid for in cash, under a false name.
She was a mother.
And the baby was stirring.
Aurora’s eyes snapped open from a half-sleep, her body instantly rigid. She’d been dozing in the hard, plastic armchair, the hospital bed feeling too much like a trap.
The small, rooting sound came again from the bassinet. A tiny, impatient snuffle.
He was hungry.
Her body, which felt broken and bruised, ached as she stood. She moved to the small, clear, plastic tub.
He was awake, his tiny, starfish hands balled i
