Millicent
The morning sun filtered through the medical suite windows, casting soft light across the room where I'd been recovering since Alexander's birth yesterday. I'd barely slept, my mind constantly on my tiny son fighting in the NICU just down the hall. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his perfect little face, heard his first angry cry.
The door opened quietly, and I turned expecting Dr. Winters or another nurse. Instead, my mother stepped in, looking healthier than I'd seen her in years but with worry etched across her face.
"Mom?" I tried to sit up straighter, wincing at the pull of stitches. "How are you here?"
"Abel had me flown in overnight," she said, crossing quickly to my bedside. "Private jet, medical escort, the whole works. He said you'd need me." Her hand found mine,
