4.

LEVI

Everything after “She’s in active labor” had been a blur.

One second, I was standing there, trying to process the words. The next, Darcy was being wheeled away, her face pale, her body limp, tubes and wires attached to her like she was some kind of science experiment.

And then the baby—her baby—was suddenly here.

A nurse had barely managed to give me a glimpse before she was whisked away, too small, too still, her skin too pale. Someone was shouting orders, something about oxygen, something about monitoring vitals.

I followed them.

Didn’t think—just moved.

Down the hall, through the double doors, into the NICU. I wasn’t supposed to be in there yet, but I didn’t care.

Because that was Darcy’s kid.

My sister’s kid.

And until she woke up, I was all she had.

The nurses were already working when I caught up. Tubes, wires, the rhythmic beeping of machines filled the air as they moved around her. The baby was barely bigger than my damn hand, her tiny chest rising and falling in uneven, shallow breaths.

I felt something twist deep inside my chest.

“What’s wrong with her?” My voice came out rough, more like a demand than a question.

One of the doctors barely spared me a glance. “She had some trouble breathing at birth. We’re monitoring her oxygen levels now.”

I clenched my jaw, watching as they carefully placed one of those tiny hospital caps over her head. It swallowed her whole.

“How bad is it?” I pressed.

The doctor sighed, finally turning to me. “It’s not uncommon for full-term cryptic pregnancies to have complications. We’re being cautious. Her vitals are stable, but we need to keep her in the NICU for a little while.”

“How long?”

“A few days. Maybe more, depending on how she does.”

A few days.

I exhaled sharply, forcing myself to nod. It wasn’t as bad as I’d been expecting, but still—seeing her like that, hooked up to wires, barely even moving… it did something to me.

“She’s a fighter,” the nurse next to me murmured, adjusting one of the monitors. “She’s strong.”

I swallowed.

Strong.

Like Darcy.

I didn’t move from that spot for the next few hours.

I just stood there, arms crossed, eyes fixed on that tiny, too-fragile body inside the incubator. Nurses and doctors came and went, adjusting things, checking things, but I barely registered any of it.

All I could think about was how the hell we’d ended up here.

How Darcy had gone from being my pain-in-the-ass little sister to… a mom.

How there was suddenly this whole other person in our family.

A person we had no idea was even coming.

A person who didn’t have a father listed on any of the paperwork.

I frowned at that thought, my arms tightening over my chest.

Darcy hadn’t said a single word about him. Not one.

And the fact that she’d hidden it this long… it meant something.

It meant she didn’t want anyone to know.

Didn’t want me to know.

The muscle in my jaw ticked.

I didn’t care who the guy was. Didn’t care if he was some one-night mistake or if it was worse than that.

But if he thought for a second he could just disappear, leave my sister to deal with this alone?

He had another thing coming.

And then the other thing weighing on my mind…

I was used to stress.

I was used to working two jobs, pulling late nights at school, and making sure there was enough money to keep the lights on. I was used to picking up the slack, making sure Mom didn’t overwork herself, making sure Darcy had what she needed, even if it meant I had to go without.

But this?

This was something else entirely.

Darcy was still in high school. She hadn’t even graduated yet. What was she supposed to do now? Drop out? Try to finish while taking care of a baby? What about college? She’d wanted to go, even if she never talked about it much. Was all of that over now?

And the money—God, the money.

We were barely scraping by as it was. Mom’s job at the restaurant barely covered the essentials, and my two jobs were the only reason we weren’t drowning. Darcy’s part-time gig at the bookstore helped, but it wasn’t enough to make a real difference. And now there was a baby in the picture?

Diapers. Formula. Clothes. Medical bills.

How the hell were we supposed to afford all that?

I dragged a hand down my face, exhaling slowly. We’ll figure it out, I told myself. We always do.

But for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t sure if that was true.

The sound of my phone vibrating snapped me out of my thoughts. I pulled it from my pocket and glanced at the screen.

Group Chat – “The Boys”

Cassian: yo, where tf u at?

Cassian: pool party’s dead without u man, Elias won’t even take a shot lmao

Cassian: hellooooo? tf u doing

I blinked.

Shit.

I had completely forgotten. We were supposed to meet up at Elias’s mansion today. Pool, drinks, whatever. A rare day off for me, and I had told them I’d be there.

Obviously, that wasn’t happening anymore.

I typed out a quick response.

Me: Can’t make it. Family emergency.

I barely had time to lock my phone before another message popped up.

Elias: What happened? Is it Darcy?

I hesitated.

Not because the question was weird—Darcy was my family, so it made sense he’d assume—but because it was him asking.

Elias never talked much in the chat. Half the time, he barely acknowledged the messages unless it was about something important. But the speed of his response? The way he immediately jumped to Darcy?

It made me pause.

I shook my head, letting out a short, humorless laugh. Weird.

Still, I didn’t answer right away. I wasn’t ready to tell them what was going on. Hell, I wasn’t even ready to admit it to myself.

Me: Don’t worry about it. Everything’s fine.

I stared at the screen for a second, debating whether to say more. But before I could type anything else—

“Mr. Seville?”

I looked up. One of the nurses stood in front of me, offering a small, kind smile. “You can come in now,” she said. “She’s stable, and you can see her if you’d like.”

I shoved my phone back into my pocket without another thought.

My legs felt heavy as I followed her through the doors.

The NICU was quiet, just the steady hum of machines and the occasional murmurs of nurses moving from one incubator to the next. It smelled like antiseptic and baby powder, the air thick with something I couldn’t quite name.

And then—

There she was.

The nurse moved carefully, reaching into the incubator, adjusting some of the wires before turning to me. “Would you like to hold her?”

I hesitated.

For a second, I thought about saying no.

Not because I didn’t want to—because I wasn’t sure if I should.

But then she was in my arms.

And everything else faded.

She barely weighed anything, just a small, warm bundle wrapped in a soft pink blanket. Her breathing was slow and steady, her tiny fingers curled into little fists. Her skin was smooth, softer than anything I’d ever felt, and she smelled like—

I didn’t even know what.

Something new. Something delicate. Something I couldn’t put into words.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

All the frustration, all the stress, all the impossibility of this situation—it was still there. I still had no idea how we were going to do this.

But as I looked down at her, so small in my arms, so helpless, so unaware of everything she’d just been born into—

I resigned myself.

If Darcy wanted to keep her, I’d make it work.

Even if I had to work ten jobs.