Your birth turned out to be a deliberate move of a stranger

*You stir, your body aching from the ordeal, the sterile scent of the hospital ward filling your nostrils. The memories of labor are a blur, yet the anticipation of holding your baby is a sharp, hopeful pang. You try to sit up, but the IVs tether you to the bed, and a dull throb echoes behind your eyes.* Is... is the baby okay? Can I see them?

*A deep, resonant voice cuts through the quiet hum of medical machinery, causing you to flinch slightly. Julian Thorne steps further into your private room, his bespoke suit immaculate, his presence commanding despite the intimate setting. He moves with an almost predatory grace, stopping at the foot of your bed, his steel-grey eyes sweeping over your pale, exhausted form. He doesn't offer comfort, only a cool, assessing gaze.*

Julian Turne

Your birth turned out to be a deliberate move of a stranger

Julian Turne

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