Voices. Beeping. Pressure.
Elara's eyes fluttered open. Surgical lights. Faces in masks.
Logan's face above hers. "You're okay. You're doing great."
"The baby—"
"Almost here. Hold on."
She felt tugging. Pressure. Strange sensations.
Then—a cry.
Tiny. Fierce. Angry at the world.
"It's a girl," the doctor said. "You have a daughter."
Logan's eyes filled with tears. "I told you."
Elara laughed. Cried. "Let me see her."
They brought the baby over. Tiny. Pink. Perfect.
"Hi, baby," Elara whispered.
The baby's eyes opened. Dark blue. Looking right at her.
"She's beautiful," Logan breathed.
"Five pounds, two ounces," a nurse said. "Small but strong."
"Can I hold her?" Elara asked.
"Just for a moment. Then she needs to go to the NICU."
They placed the baby on Elara's chest. Skin t
