Chapter Four
That cry cut through every buried current in the operating room.
"Waaah!"
It was loud. Offended. Full of newborn arrogance.
The nurse lifted her just high enough for me to see.
Wrinkled. Red-purple. Wet dark hair plastered to her tiny head.
Ugly.
So ugly that tears spilled straight out of my eyes.
"A girl," the nurse said. "Five pounds two ounces. Strong cry."
They carried her to the warmer to wipe her down, clear her mouth and nose, weigh her again, and check her over.
I turned my head, trying to see more.
Ethan was faster.
He stood beside the warmer and did not move.
Strictly speaking, his job was still with me. The baby had a pediatric team.
No one told him to come back.
No one wanted to be the person who interrupted that look.
His gaze was fixed on the baby as if lightning had struck the floor between them.
The nurse cleaned my daughter gently.
The cleaner her face became, the more obvious it was.
Her brows were Ethan's.
That slight crease between them was Ethan's exact expression when he was displeased.
Her nose was Ethan's.
Her mouth was smaller, but the shape was his too, that thin, stubborn line.
Even her angry newborn scowl belonged to him.
She was Ethan Vale.
A tiny, wrinkled, furious Ethan Vale.
The operating room went silent for three seconds.
Nora inhaled beside me and forgot herself.
"Wow. She looks exactly like her dad-"
She stopped.
Too late.
The words floated across the room and landed in every ear.
Ethan turned his head.
He looked at Nora.
Nora froze like a deer in headlights.
Then he looked at me.
I was still on the table, still being stitched up, wishing my upper half could evaporate.
He said nothing.
His hand hung at his side, curled into a fist so tight his knuckles went white.
The monitor started screaming again.
The nurse glanced at the screen. "Ms. Reed's heart rate is one fifty-two. Dr. Vale?"
Ethan took one breath.
Then he walked back to my side, eyes on the monitor, fingers turning a dial.
His mask hid his mouth.
It did not hide his ears.
They were red.
Not embarrassed red.
The kind of red that meant something inside him was about to explode.
He lowered his head so only I could hear.
"Maya, I cannot settle this with you right now because your abdomen is open."
He paused.
"So you are going to wait for me."
The OB began closing.
I stared at the light above me and decided it was not a surgical lamp at all. It was a spotlight aimed at the world's biggest fool.
Nora leaned closer and whispered, "We cannot hide this."
I whispered back, "What happened to deny everything?"
"How? The child came out wearing his face. What do you want me to do?"
I closed my eyes.
The incision did not hurt much yet. The anesthesia held that back.
My face hurt.
Like I had been slapped by fate with both hands.
