Chapter 8 - The Mother with the Stroller
Three days later, I was officially discharged from St. Luke’s Memorial Hospital.
The morning sun was brilliant and warm, casting golden rays across the downtown skyline.
Accompanied by Mr. Henderson and Marcus’s executive protection detail, I walked out the front doors wearing an elegant, tailored cream cashmere coat.
In my arms, nestled inside a bespoke ivory leather stroller adorned with soft silk blankets, was baby Maya.
She was healthy, strong, with rosy cheeks and bright, curious eyes, cooing softly as the gentle autumn breeze touched her face.
Waiting at the private curb was not an Uber.
It was a brand-new, customized armored Mercedes Maybach, with a certified private nurse standing by the door holding fresh baby bottles and warm blankets.
Marcus opened the door with a respectful bow.
“Your carriage is ready, Mrs. Sterling.”
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I looked at the city before me, feeling the weightless, magnificent freedom of a woman who had reclaimed her kingdom, her dignity, and her child's future.
“Let’s go home, Marcus,” I smiled.
