Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN WITH EMPTY ARMS
Dr. Bennett refused to let me turn one unexpected feeding into a miracle.
“Leo still needs a full medical assessment,” he told me as the pediatric transport team prepared to move my son to the hospital's neonatal unit.
I stood beside the crib.
“He ate.”
“Yes. That's significant. But we need to understand why previous feeding attempts failed and make sure he can safely continue.”
He explained that premature infants could have complicated feeding difficulties involving coordination, swallowing, reflux, illness, or exhaustion. Leo's earlier inability to feed had already placed him at serious risk.
“What about Hannah?” I asked.
Dr. Bennett glanced toward the door.
“She needs medical screening, too. If she wishes to continue providing milk, we'll need her informed consent, relevant health screening, and a safe feeding plan.”
“Then arrange it.”
“Only if she agrees, Alessandro.”
I looked at him.
He didn't blink.
For a moment, I almost resented the reminder.
Then I remembered the gun.
Hannah's terrified face.
The way she'd told me to shoot her after Leo finished.
I felt sick.
“Of course,” I said.
Hannah sat in a small waiting room downstairs.
She had changed into a clean sweater.
Her hands were folded tightly in her lap.
When I entered, she stood immediately.
“Mr. Rossi.”
“Sit down.”
She sat.
I remained standing, suddenly uncertain what to do with my hands.
“I owe you an apology.”
She stared.
“I pointed a gun at you.”
Her eyes dropped.
“I was afraid for my son,” I continued. “That doesn't excuse what I did.”
She said nothing.
“I won't threaten you again.”
Her fingers tightened.
“Am I fired?”
The question hit harder than it should have.
“No.”
She looked up.
“But you entered the nursery without permission.”
“Yes.”
“And you put yourself at risk.”
“I know.”
I took a breath.
“Why did you do it?”
She stared at the floor.
Then she told me about Lily.
Her daughter had been born after a violent assault by Hannah's former boyfriend, Derek Shaw. The injuries and emergency delivery had been devastating. Lily had lived only a short time.
Hannah's voice barely changed as she described it.
That was what frightened me.
Not the grief.
The discipline required to speak through it.
“I held her once,” she said.
I sat down.
“She was so small.”
Hannah looked at her hands.
“I kept thinking that if I could just keep her warm, she'd stay.”
Her eyes filled.
“But she didn't.”
I had spent two weeks telling myself no one understood my pain.
I had been wrong.
Hannah wiped her face.
“When I heard Leo crying, I couldn't stay downstairs.”
I looked toward the nursery corridor.
“I understand.”
She shook her head.
“No, Mr. Rossi. You don't have to understand. I broke your rules.”
“Rules can be wrong.”
She looked at me.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
Then I asked:
“Would you consider helping Leo again, if the doctors approve it?”
She stared.
“You want me to feed him?”
“If you want to.”
Her expression changed.
Hope.
Fear.
And something so painful I almost looked away.
“I don't know,” she whispered.
I nodded.
“Then take your time.”
She looked surprised.
“You're not going to order me?”
“No.”
I stood.
“Hannah, I can pay you for your time. I can arrange medical care and support. But you don't owe me your body because you work in my house.”
She began crying.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
Just tears slipping down her face while she stared at her empty hands.
I stood there, helpless.
Then she whispered:
“I don't want another baby to die.”
May you like
I sat beside her.
“Neither do I.”
