Morning sunlight spilled across Silver's apartment, illuminating scattered blueprints, dress lists, and intricate security plans. Each sheet seemed to pulse with urgency, a silent reminder of the perfection expected. Silver rubbed her temples, imagining how she'd manage it all. The showcase had to run flawlessly—given Princess's exacting expectations and Edward's looming shadow.
She had claimed the day off, citing a visit to a sick friend at the hospital—a half-truth. Henry had texted late last night that Emma would be discharged soon. Silver decided today was the day to carve out a quiet window of normalcy amidst her chaotic life.
Her phone rang, displaying her mother's name. Silver hesitated, a familiar tug at her chest. A part of her longed for home—her mother, Annemarie, even her distant father.
"Silver, darling!" her mother's voice stirred childhood memories. "I have news—you'll never believe it!"
Silver smiled. "What is it, Mom?"
"Annemarie... she just had the baby!" Her mother's excitement leaped through the line. "I thought you'd want to be there for the christening."
Silver blinked, her grip tightening around the phone. She hadn't even known her sister was pregnant. She'd been caught up in her own world while life moved on around her. Guilt twisted inside, weaving with disbelief.
"I... I can't," she said finally, her voice tighter than she intended. "I'll be busy with work."
Her mother's tone softened, though the disappointment lingered. "Silver... you should call her soon. She'd love to hear from you before the ceremony."
"I'll call her," Silver promised, pressing the phone against her cheek, the weight of distance and responsibility pressing down.
"What about you?" her mother asked gently. "How are you, really? Is everything going well?"
Silver hesitated, aware of her father's quiet presence somewhere just beyond the call.
"I'm fine," she said, letting her voice carry steadiness she didn't quite feel.
"Good," her mother said gently. "Just… know we're thinking of you."
Silver ended the call and sat still for a moment, her fingers resting on the phone, reluctant to let go of the connection. She rose slowly, slipped on her coat, and checked her bag. Without thinking, her hand drifted to her stomach—an unconscious touch she'd caught herself making more often.
Today, she would see Emma. See her friend healing, smiling, alive. And in that, maybe find a steadiness of her own.
◆◆◆
The hospital lobby smelled sharply of antiseptic, mingling with the faint sweetness of coffee. Henry leaned casually near the ward entrance, a light jacket draped over his crisp white shirt and dark jeans. His hair caught the morning light, slightly tousled.
"Good morning," he said, stepping in rhythm with her. The soft clicks of their shoes echoed across the polished floor, punctuated by distant beeps and hushed murmurs of staff and visitors.
Silver felt her stomach twist with nerves as they neared the ward. Henry brushed her hand lightly, a steady gesture. The antiseptic smell began to fade, replaced by the gentle sweetness of flowers on the windowsill and Emma's familiar lotion.
Emma lay in bed, pale sheets cocooning her thin frame. Silver's chest tightened at the sight. Sickness had taken its toll on her friend, and guilt pricked sharply—she had been too absorbed in work to come sooner.
A small hand waved shyly from the side. Angel, her bright-eyed daughter of about five, peeked from behind the curtain. Silver knelt, letting the tiny fingers brush against hers.
"Hi," Angel said softly. "Are you going to help Mom feel better?"
Silver smiled, lifting the child's hand in hers. "I'll do my best," she murmured.
Emma's lips curved in a fragile, knowing smile. Angel giggled and tugged at Silver's hand, pointing toward a colorful drawing she'd made of people that visited—stick figures, flowers, and a sun with a wide, happy smile.
"See?" She whispered. "Angel likes you."
Silver laughed, drawn into the little girl's energy. She adjusted Emma's pillows, smoothed the blanket, and leaned in to watch Angel's antics—tiny feet kicking, questions tumbling out without pause. When Angel finally curled against her, whispering stories about school, toys, and faraway dreams, Silver listened closely, laughing softly and teasing gently as something tender and unspoken bloomed quietly between them.
Soon, Henry returned with snacks, chasing Angel down the hall as she darted off with a few in hand, laughter echoing behind her.
"He likes you, you know." Emma teased with a weak but bright smile.
Silver laughed softly again. Henry was kind, thoughtful, a calming presence—but her heart remained elsewhere, occupied with the weight of possibilities she hadn't fully faced.
Hours slipped by in a soft blur. Silver had helped Emma arrange her things, guided Angel through her schoolwork, and played until the little girl's laughter echoed through the ward like sunlight. The fluorescent glare gave way to golden afternoon light, casting a gentle glow across the room. By day's end, Silver felt something shift—a quiet tether of belonging, the warmth of being needed, seen.
But threaded through that comfort was uncertainty. She was twenty-four, still finding her footing, still chasing stability. Could she carry a child into a world that didn't yet feel solid beneath her feet? Would Edward be part of it—or just another ghost of a man who left?
As they prepared to leave, Angel slipped her small hand into Silver's. "Come back soon," she whispered.
Silver squeezed her fingers gently, pressing the moment deep into memory.
Henry offered her a ride, and she accepted with a grateful nod. The city pulsed outside the windows as they drove, his voice light with errands and schedules she barely heard. Her thoughts were elsewhere—on Emma's fragile smile, Angel's quick laughter, and the tiny handprints already etched across her heart.
At a stoplight, she drew her phone from her bag. Her thumbs hovered over the screen as she typed to Edward: I've made my decision.
She set the phone down, her heart steady yet pulsing with the weight of her choice. She glanced at Henry, still talking quietly about trivial matters, letting the hum of the road settle her. Silver thought briefly of Annemarie and the christening she had promised to call about. But for now, she let the warmth of Henry's presence and the bond she felt with Emma and Angel hold her, even as her secret decision rested firmly inside.