Chapter 8 - The ArrivalThe contractions started three weeks early, right as a warm April rain shower began tapping against the metal roof of the Vermont cabin.
Serena woke up at 2:00 AM with a sharp, rhythmic cramp in her lower back. She didn't panic. She didn't wake Marcus immediately. Instead, she timed three contractions on her bedside clock, walked calmly to the bathroom, finished packing her hospital bag, and then walked down the hallway to tap on Marcus’s bedroom door.
“Marcus,” she said through the wood paneling. “Time to go.”
Twenty minutes later, they were driving down the winding mountain road toward the regional medical center in Burlington, the headlights cutting through the heavy spring mist.
By 8:45 AM, after a smooth, uncomplicated labor managed by a team of calm, professional nurses who reminded Serena of her old days in the Boston ER, the delivery room filled with the most beautiful sound in the world.
A sharp, healthy, furious cry.
The obstetrician smiled, lifting a tiny, wriggling bundle wrapped in a pink flannel blanket, and placed her directly onto Serena’s chest.
“Congratulations, Dr. Paige,” the nurse beamed. “She’s perfect.”
Serena looked down at the tiny face pressed against her skin. Dark tufts of hair, button nose, and eyes that were already blinking open to take in the bright lights of the world.
The door to the delivery room opened quietly, and Marcus walked in, wearing sterile scrubs and looking slightly pale around the edges, holding a camera in his hand.
He stopped at the foot of the bed, his amber eyes wide as he looked at the mother and child.
“Well?” Serena whispered, tears of profound relief spilling over her lashes. “Do you want to meet her?”
Marcus walked slowly around the bed, kneeling beside her so his face was level with the newborn. He reached out a large, steady hand, letting the baby wrap her tiny, perfect fingernails around his index finger.
The federal investigator—the man who had hunted white-collar criminals across international borders and faced down armed syndicates—looked as though he might melt into a puddle right there on the hospital linoleum.
“She’s gorgeous, Serena,” Marcus choked out, his voice thick with emotion. “What’s her name?”
Serena looked down at her daughter, feeling a love so deep and fierce it felt like it could move mountains.
May you like
“Maya,” Serena whispered. “Maya Rose Paige.”
Marcus smiled, leaning down to press a gentle kiss against Serena’s forehead. “Welcome to the world, Maya.”
