In the following weeks, Olivia began stopping by the hospital more often—first for check-ups, and then for small questions that could have easily been answered over the phone. Elise didn’t mind. The young mother’s visits broke the monotony of her shifts and softened the ward’s sharp edges.
They started talking in the quiet moments between appointments. They were about sleepless nights, and the ache of loving something so small and helpless. Olivia spoke with surprising insight for nineteen, but her voice always carried a trace of guilt, as if she didn’t deserve the baby she adored.