Chapter 6_ Eloise Pov

My hand searched for my stomach before I opened my eyes.

The curve should have been there. Round and firm under my pain but my fingers pressed against something flat and wrong.

I forced my eyes open and the bright lights above me burned. White ceiling tiles came into focus slowly. A machine beeped somewhere close. The air smelled sharp and chemical.

Hospital.

But how did I get here? I lifted my head off the pillow and looked down at my body under the thin blanket. My hospital gown hung loose where my belly used to push against the fabric.

I pressed both hands against my abdomen and felt only softness. No kicks, no movement. Just emptiness that went deeper than my skin.

The last thing I remembered was falling. The street. The car. Pain everywhere.

Then nothing.

"No." I tried to sit up but my arms shook under my weight. They folded and I fell back against the pillow. "No no no."

My legs wouldn't move right either. I tried to bend my knees but they felt distant and weak like they belonged to someone else.

This wasn't normal tired. This was something else. Something that felt like it would never go away.

Footsteps passed in the hallway outside. I turned my head toward the door.

"Hello?" My throat was dry and the word came out scratchy. "Someone help me."

A nurse walked past the doorway. She glanced in and our eyes met for just a second before she looked away fast and kept walking.

That look on her face told me everything I was trying not to know.

"Wait." I tried again louder. "Please wait."

She was already gone.

I stared at the doorway and waited. My hands stayed pressed against my flat stomach. Maybe if I held them there long enough I would feel something. A flutter, a kick. Anything.

But there was nothing except the hollow feeling spreading through my chest.

A different nurse appeared in the doorway. She had a tablet in her hands and a smile that didn't look real.

"Mrs Vale." She walked to my bedside. "You're awake. That's good."

"Where's my baby?"

The smile flickered but she kept it in place.

"Let me get the doctor for you."

"I don't want the doctor." I grabbed her wrist and she looked down at my hand in surprise. "I want my baby. Where is she?"

"Mrs Vale I really think the doctor should talk to you first."

"Tell me now."

She pulled her wrist free gently and stepped back.

"I'm going to get him. Please try to stay calm."

"How did I get here?"

"You were brought in by ambulance yesterday. You were hit by a car."

Yesterday. I'd lost a whole day.

"Who called the ambulance?"

"I'm not sure. Let me get the doctor." She headed toward the door.

"Wait. Who brought me in? Was it the driver?" I asked.

She paused and something flickered across her face.

"I don't have that information ma'am.”

She left and I was alone again with the beeping machine and the antiseptic smell and the terrible knowledge growing in my chest.

I looked at my hands. They were shaking. I tried to make them stop but couldn't.

The door opened and a man in a white coat walked in. He was older with gray hair and lines around his eyes that deepened when he saw me.

"Mrs Vale." He pulled a chair close to the bed and sat down. "I'm Doctor Morrison. How are you feeling?"

"Where's my daughter?"

He folded his hands in his lap and took a breath.

"I'm very sorry. We did everything we could but your daughter didn't survive the delivery."

The words hung in the air between us.

I heard them but they didn't connect to anything real. They were just sounds.

"You're wrong."

"I wish I was." His voice was soft. "You had a placental abruption. By the time the ambulance brought you in there had been too much oxygen loss. We tried but we couldn't save her."

"She was moving yesterday. I felt her."

"I know this is extremely difficult to hear."

"So she's dead." I said it flat. Made myself say the word.

"Yes."

I waited for something to break inside me. For tears or screaming or anything but all I felt was cold spreading through my body.

"Can I see her?"

Doctor Morrison's eyebrows lifted slightly.

"Are you sure that's what you want?"

"She's my daughter. I want to see her."

He studied my face for a long moment then nodded.

"I'll have the nurse bring her. But Mrs Vale I need you to understand that this will be very hard."

"Everything is already hard."

He stood and walked to the door. He said something quiet to someone outside then came back.

"It will be just a few minutes."

He sat down again and we waited in silence. I kept my eyes on the ceiling because looking at him made it more real.

The door opened and the first nurse came in pushing a small clear bassinet. My heart jumped into my throat.

She wheeled it next to my bed and reached inside. When she lifted the tiny bundle wrapped in white blankets I stopped breathing.

"Would you like to hold her?" Her voice was gentle.

I couldn't speak so I just nodded.

She placed my daughter in my arms and I looked down at her face for the first time.

So small, smaller than I imagined. Her eyes were closed and her skin was pale and perfect. Tiny fingers curled against the blanket. She looked like she was sleeping.

Except her chest wasn't moving.

I touched her cheek with one finger. Her skin was so cold.

"Hi baby." My voice cracked. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you."

The tears came then. They burned down my face and dripped onto the white blanket. I pulled her closer to my chest and felt the weight of her.

"I'm so sorry." I kept saying it over and over. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry."

The nurse put her hand on my shoulder but didn't say anything.

I don't know how long I sat there holding her. Time stopped meaning anything. But eventually the nurse said something about needing to take her and I had to let go.

When my arms were empty again the cold feeling in my chest turned into a black hole.

The nurse took her away and Doctor Morrison cleared his throat.

"Mrs Vale I need to talk to you about something else."

I couldn't look away from the door where they'd taken my daughter.

"We ran some tests while you were in surgery." He paused. "Your body showed signs of long term suppression."

That made me turn my head.

"What?"

"Suppression. It means something has been blocking or weakening your natural functions for an extended period." He looked at his tablet. "We're not sure of the cause yet but the effects are significant."

"I don't understand."

"Neither do we completely. But it's something we need to monitor closely." He set the tablet aside. "For now you need to rest and recover. We'll run more tests tomorrow."

"The nurses will check on you regularly. Press the button if you need anything."

He left and I was alone.

I stared at my hands, tried to make my fingers work properly. They moved but everything felt wrong, like my body wasn't quite mine anymore.

Suppression.

I didn't know what that word meant in the way he used it. But the fear it put in my chest was real and sharp and wouldn't go away.