As the others busied themselves with post-delivery routines, Elise lingered by her bedside. Her breathing steadied, but her eyes remained open—glassy, lost, and fixed on some private terror only she could see. The nurse adjusted her blanket, careful not to disturb her after the ordeal she, her body, her whole being had been through.
Hours later, when the ward settled into its midnight rhythm, Elise returned to check Olivia’s vitals. “Would you like me to call someone?” she asked softly. She blinked once, then turned her head away. “No,” she whispered. “No one for now.”