They tried treatments. They traveled to specialists across the country. They even began adoption paperwork more than once, but every attempt somehow fell apart.
After five years of trying, Claire stopped talking about children altogether.
Two years later, she moved out.
There had been no screaming argument.
Just silence.
Some emptiness slowly erodes everything.
Andrew pushed the memory away and returned to the present.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Emily.”
“And the baby?”
The girl looked down at the tiny face in her arms.
“He doesn’t have a name yet.”
Andrew swallowed hard.
A few minutes later the ambulance arrived. The paramedics examined the woman briefly and confirmed what Andrew already knew.
She had been dead for more than a day.
Police officers took notes while social services were contacted.
Emily never loosened her grip on the baby.
When a social worker tried to gently take the child for examination, the girl reacted instantly, clutching him tighter.
“He’s mine!”
The strength in her voice was almost wild.
Andrew felt something tighten in his chest.
“Let me talk to her,” he said quietly.
He stepped closer again.
“Emily, they just need to check him to make sure he’s healthy,” he explained softly. “If he’s okay, you’ll feel better too. Right?”
She studied him for a long moment, as if measuring every word.
Something in his tone must have sounded different.
Finally, she allowed the nurse to examine the baby, but she stood close the entire time, watching every movement.
The diagnosis came quickly.
Mild dehydration. Some malnutrition.
But nothing permanent.
A small miracle.
Later, when the ambulance drove away carrying the mother’s body, silence settled heavily over the abandoned building.
“You’ll both need to go to a temporary center tonight,” the social worker explained. “Tomorrow we’ll figure out what happens next.”
Emily stiffened again.
Andrew felt an unfamiliar sensation rising inside him.
Fear.
Not for himself.
For them.
“Are there any relatives?” he asked.
“We’re checking records,” the woman replied. “But so far, nothing.”
Andrew looked at Emily, who was watching the ambulance disappear down the road.
That night he couldn’t sleep.
Again and again he saw the same image: a small girl holding a baby as if he were the only reason she kept breathing.
The next morning he called his lawyer.
“I want to begin the foster care process,” Andrew said immediately.