The young prisoner sobbed with such raw, unadulterated sincerity, such bitter heartbreak, that every single woman in the delivery room involuntarily squeezed their eyes shut. The heavy air was thick with an unspoken tragedy. It was a profoundly unenviable fate for both the innocent newborn and her chained mother. Even if the prison system mercifully allowed them to stay together for a short grace period, the ticking clock would eventually run out. They would be brutally separated.
Once the necessary post-delivery procedures were completed, orderlies transferred the exhausted mother and her swaddled baby to a quiet recovery ward. Only then did the heavy wooden doors swing open, allowing the impatient prison convoy back inside. The lead guard finally unclicked the heavy steel handcuffs from the bedframe, rubbing his jaw as he bluntly announced their harsh itinerary. They fully intended to haul Mia straight back to the penal colony the second she could sit up, leaving the helpless infant behind for the state guardianship authorities to deal with.
Lying completely drained on the gurney, Mia listened to this devastating plan and began to sob uncontrollably. But the hardened men paid absolutely no mind to her frantic hysterics.
“The bosses ordered it,” one of the escorts shrugged, turning a dismissive gaze toward Dr. Gibbs. “How is she? Good to travel?”
“The patient is incredibly fragile, and I will not authorize a discharge until tomorrow morning at the absolute earliest,” Barbara fired back, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming at the insolent man.
“But we have a functioning medical wing back at the prison,” the guard argued, crossing his arms. “She can sleep it off there.”
“And what exactly is your medical plan if she severely hemorrhages while bouncing around in the back of your transport truck?” Barbara demanded, her voice dropping to a lethal, icy whisper. “No. I am not letting her leave this building. She stays.”
Staring down the furious doctor, the guards realized they were fighting a losing battle. There was simply nothing to be done. They grudgingly yielded to the medical staff’s ironclad authority, but they didn’t leave without a stern warning: a fresh rotation of officers would be arriving by nightfall to stand guard outside the ward door.
Barbara was forced to nod in agreement. She was entirely too exhausted to keep arguing with brick walls. Where on earth could a terrified girl realistically run just hours after childbirth anyway? She couldn’t even stand on her own two feet yet. Still, Barbara knew she had to toe the line. She had a hospital administrator to answer to, and the heavy hand of the law looming over her head.
Later that evening, as the hospital quieted into a steady, rhythmic hum, Barbara retreated to the resident’s breakroom. She collapsed into the worn upholstery of a battered armchair, an overwhelming exhaustion pulling at her bones. Yet, her mind raced at a terrifying speed. Every single thought circled back to the fragile girl she had delivered that morning.
Mia. Could this terrified prisoner truly be her stolen little girl? But if it was her, why on earth was she locked away in a penal colony? What could she possibly have done? Where was her fiercely wealthy father? Or perhaps the exhaustion of a grueling shift was finally playing cruel tricks on her mind. Maybe that faded, arrow-shaped scar was nothing more than a desperate hallucination.
She had to know for sure. She needed to see the girl’s foot one more time.
Barbara pulled the patient’s chart into her lap, her fingers trembling slightly as she traced the medical history. Type 3, positive blood. It was the exact same rare blood type as her own. And the girl’s face… In the harsh glare of the delivery room lights, Barbara had been too focused on the medical emergency to truly look. But now, piecing the image together in her mind’s eye, it hit her like a physical blow. Mia possessed the exact same striking green eyes and cascade of blonde hair as Barbara’s late mother.
Was it actually possible?
Unable to sit still a moment longer, Barbara pushed herself out of the armchair and hurried down the dim, quiet corridor toward Mia’s recovery room. The promised prison convoy had not yet arrived to begin their night shift. The hallway was entirely empty. Taking a deep, steadying breath, the midwife quietly pushed the heavy wooden door open.
The young mother was fast asleep. Barbara crept forward with agonizing caution. She gently lifted the edge of the crisp white hospital blanket, exposing the girl’s bare ankle.
There it was. It wasn’t a phantom of her imagination. The distinct, jagged, arrow-shaped scar rested right there on the arch of her foot.
Suddenly, Mia gasped, her green eyes flying open in the darkness.
“What happened?” the girl panicked, her voice hoarse and frantic. “Is something wrong with my girl?” She tried to push herself up against the pillows, but immediately winced, her face contorting in sharp pain.
“Hush, hush, sweetheart,” Barbara whispered urgently, stepping into the dim light so the girl could see her face. “Everything is perfectly fine with your baby. I just came in to check on you.”
“Everything hurts,” Mia whimpered pitifully, sinking back into the mattress.
“That’s completely normal. It happens,” Barbara murmured soothingly. “Everything will pass. The physical pain will eventually subside, and there will be only the pure joy that you now have a beautiful daughter.”
Barbara spoke quietly, her tone a masterclass in calm professionalism, even though her own lips were trembling and her hands shook so badly she had to clasp them tightly in her lap as she sat down on the chair beside the bed.
“Mia,” Barbara began softly, her heart hammering against her ribs. “Tell me… what happened to you? Why did you end up in the colony? Maybe I can find a way to help. Or is there something you need to inform your relatives about?”
“I have no one,” Mia answered softly, staring up at the ceiling. “And why I ended up there? Nobody believed me. And why would you? Tell me, doctor… will they really take my daughter away from me? Didn’t they say we’d be together until she was three?”