Chapter 2 - The Little Fold
Security escorted Julian into the hallway.
He went quietly.
That frightened me more than shouting would have.
Men like Julian saved their worst behavior for rooms without witnesses.
Rosa closed the door.
“What do you want to name him?” she asked.
“Owen.”
I had chosen it alone in a laundromat, watching tiny blue socks turn behind the glass.
A name that belonged to nobody in Julian’s family.
“Owen,” she repeated softly.
My son curled his fingers against my skin.
Dr. Mercer pulled a chair beside the bed, but he did not sit until I nodded.
“I owe you an explanation.”
“You owe me several.”
“Yes.”
He looked at Owen’s left ear.
Near the top, the rim folded inward slightly.
I had noticed it when Rosa first placed him against me.
A tiny crease.
Nothing alarming.
“My son had an ear shaped like that,” the doctor said.
I tightened my arms.
“Lots of babies probably do.”
“They do.”
He answered immediately.
“This isn’t proof of anything.”
“Then why were you crying?”
“Because for a moment, I was holding a child I remembered.”
His voice broke.
He waited until it steadied.
“My wife left when our son was fourteen months old.”
“Eleanor?”
“Yes.”
“She told me Julian’s father died when he was young.”
Dr. Mercer stared at the floor.
“She told me my son died.”
The room went strangely silent.
Even the machines seemed farther away.
“She sent a letter from overseas,” he continued.
“There was a certificate.”
“Did you see him?”
“No.”
The word came out painfully.
“I tried to find them before that.”
“And afterward?”
“I tried to verify what happened.”
He rubbed his hands together.
“I never got an answer I could hold.”
I looked down at Owen.
I wanted the doctor to be wrong.
Not because I disliked him.
Because I could not survive one more person turning my baby into a reason to fight.
“How do you know Julian is your son?”
“I don’t.”
He met my eyes.
“I know the woman who just texted him was once my wife.”
A knock sounded.
A hospital administrator entered with a tablet and an expression people wore before saying something unpleasant.
“Mrs. Vance, there’s been a concern raised about your discharge plan.”
“My name is Vivian.”
She nodded.
“Your former husband says you have no stable housing.”
“I have an apartment.”
“He says you were evicted yesterday.”
My mouth went dry.
I had paid the rent.
I had the receipt.
Then my phone lit up beside the bed.
A message from my landlord.
May you like
Call me immediately.
Someone is inside your apartment.
