Chapter 17 - The Birth
The accumulated stress of the past few months precipitated biological events.
At thirty-three weeks of gestation, while reviewing the final drafts of the private prosecution's indictment with Maya, Rebecca felt a sharp, intense pain in her lower back, followed by a rush of amniotic fluid.
She was transported to the University Hospital in an emergency ambulance under police escort.
The on-call OB-GYN team determined that Rebecca was in active labor and showing early cervical effacement. The baby's heart rate was stable, but the premature conditions warranted immediate admission to the delivery ward and a preventive incubator setup.
Richard Vale arrived at the hospital twenty minutes after receiving Maya's call.
He stood in the waiting room outside the delivery doors, dressed in his usual dark suit, holding little Emma, who stared curiously at the illuminated signs in the hallway.
Inside the delivery room, the midwife and obstetrician monitored Rebecca's contractions.
Officer Ortiz stood guard at the outer door of the surgical wing to ensure the restraining order against Trevor and any member of the Harlan family was strictly enforced.
By three in the morning, the contractions were coming faster.
The pain was intense, but Rebecca refused a full epidural block so she could maintain conscious control throughout the process. She wanted to feel every moment of her second child's arrival.
"Come on, Rebecca, one last push," the obstetrician instructed. "We can see the head."
Rebecca gripped the handles of the bed. She remembered the moment she felt her baby's first kick on the living room carpet, seconds after the impact of Trevor's hand against her face. She remembered how that tiny movement had snapped her out of her stunned silence to ask her father for help.
With a ragged scream that echoed off the delivery room tiles, Rebecca gave birth.
The cry of a newborn filled the room. A loud, sharp cry, full of life.
"It's a boy," the midwife announced, immediately placing him on Rebecca's bare chest, wrapped in a thermal blanket.
Rebecca burst into tears. A liberating cry that washed away the taste of blood from her broken tooth, the fear of anonymous calls, and the weight of the Harlans' threats.
The baby, small but vigorous, instinctively searched for his mother's breast.
Rebecca stroked his head, which was covered in fine, dark hair.
"Welcome, Mateo," she whispered through her tears. "You're safe here."
A few hours later, in her room on the maternity ward, Richard walked in leading Emma by the hand.
The toddler ran to her mother's bed and stared in awe at the transparent bassinet where her new brother was sleeping.
"This is Mateo, my love," Rebecca told her, stroking her daughter's hair.
Richard approached the crib. He looked at the newborn and then at his daughter. His eyes were glassy with emotion.
"He's a Vale," Richard said quietly.
Rebecca looked right at him and slowly shook her head.
"No, Dad. He's not a Vale. Or a Harlan."
Richard looked at her, surprised.
"His name is Mateo Vale-Moreno," Rebecca said serenely. "He's taking my names. He isn't going to carry the debts or the wars of any empire."
May you like
Richard fell silent for a few seconds. Then he managed a sad smile, but one full of genuine pride that Rebecca had never seen in him before.
"I think that's perfect, sweetheart. Absolutely perfect."
