The pediatricians did everything they could, and somehow managed to pull Briony’s baby girl back from the brink.
But things were still far from hopeful.
No matter what anyone said, Briony insisted on going to the pediatric ward to see her daughter.
Gwendolyn White tried to reason with her. “Even if you go, they won’t let you in. Besides, you haven’t recovered yet–moving around isn’t a good idea.”
“I can use a wheelchair,” Briony replied, her gaze unwavering as she looked at Gwendolyn. “Godmother, I haven’t even seen them with my own eyes since they were born. I can’t shake this feeling of unease. Please, just let me see her. Just once.”
Gwendolyn’s nerves were shot. She forced herself to appear calm, though inside she was anything but.
“Bryn, listen to Mrs. Winslow,” James chimed in, trying to help. “I’ve heard how important it is for women to rest after giving birth. How about this: I’ll go to the neonatal ward again and film a few more videos for you, okay?”
Briony’s brow furrowed as her eyes flicked between Gwendolyn and James. “Why are you both so intent on keeping me from seeing my children?”
Both of them froze, caught off guard.
“Is there something you’re not telling me?” Briony reached for Gwendolyn’s hand, her voice tight with worry. “Godmother, please, don’t lie to me. Just tell me the truth, I’m begging you.”
Gwendolyn’s nose stung as tears threatened. She ducked her head, unable to meet Briony’s gaze any longer.
Briony’s breath caught in her throat. She turned to James. “Mr. Delaney, tell me–my babies are both okay, aren’t they?”
James pressed his lips together, his eyes rimmed with red. He wanted to say yes, but the words stuck in his throat and wouldn’t come.
From their reactions, Briony began to understand. A suffocating dread closed in on her.
Ignoring the pain from her stitches, she braced herself on the bed and tried to sit up.
“Bryn!” Gwendolyn quickly pressed her back down. “Don’t move–you’ll tear your stitches.”
Briony had no strength left. Gwendolyn’s hands on her shoulders were enough to pin her in place.
Her eyes, red and pleading, locked on Gwendolyn’s face. “Godmother… you’ve only shown me photos of my daughter. Is it… is it because–my son… he’s…”
She opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she watched Gwendolyn close her eyes and give the slightest, most heartbreaking nod.
Briony’s pupils constricted, her breath stilled.
Her grip on Gwendolyn’s hand slackened, then slipped away entirely. She pressed her palm to her chest, mouth working but not a single word escaping.
Gwendolyn, crying now, tried to comfort her. “Bryn, the doctors did everything they could. There was nothing more anyone could do. You have to stay strong–for your daughter, Bryn, you have to hold on for her…”
Briony’s gaze was vacant, her hand over her heart as silent tears poured down her cheeks.
James stood nearby, unable to bear the sight, turning away to wipe his own tears.
The room was heavy with grief.
And yet, the one who had the most reason to fall apart was silent.
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Worried that Briony would make herself sick by bottling it all up, Gwendolyn squeezed her hand, urging her softly, “Bryn, if you need to cry, let it out. You’ll feel better if you do”
Briony shook her head, blinking her red–rimmed eyes. She looked at Gwendolyn. “Godmother, I never even got to see him. I want to see him.”
Gwendolyn froze.
“Please, let me see him,” Briony pleaded.
Gwendolyn pressed her lips together and turned toward the door.
Stewart had been standing there for some time, neither entering nor leaving.
“Talk to her yourself,” Gwendolyn said coldly,
Stewart drew a slow breath, knowing there was no avoiding this conversation any longer.
He strode to the bedside, his tall frame casting a shadow over Briony. Their eyes met, and Stewart’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he spoke, voice low and rough. “While you were unconscious–for those three days–1 brought our son home to Northborough. He’s been laid to rest in the Wentworth family cemetery.”
Briony stared at him, stunned,
Laid to rest in the family cemetery?
She hadn’t even gotten to see her son, not once.
Her eyelids quivered as she squeezed her eyes shut, her lips pressed tight and bloodless.
Gwendolyn could see Briony’s chest rising and falling more and more rapidly. “Bryn, whatever you’re feeling, say it. Let it out, please…”
Briony clenched her jaw, refusing to make a sound. Only her tears betrayed her, soaking the pillow beneath her head.
“Bryn, please. It’s all right to cry, just let it out. Don’t hold it in like this…”
Gwendolyn could feel the storm of emotion Briony was keeping bottled inside.
But Briony refused to let it go, punishing herself with silence.
James, frantic, finally snapped at Stewart. “Just leave! Can’t you see what you’re doing to her?”
Stewart didn’t answer, his dark eyes fixed on Briony.
When Stewart still didn’t move, James stepped forward, ready to shove him out of the room. The two men squared off, tension crackling between them, ready to come to blows.
“I want to see my daughter.”
Both men stopped and turned toward the bed.
Briony’s eyes were open now, red and raw, staring at the ceiling. Her voice was hoarse. “I want to see my daughter.”
Gwendolyn nodded, tears streaming down her face. “Of course, sweetheart. I’ll take you.”
James released Stewart’s collar and said, “I’ll go ask the nurse for a wheelchair.”
Everyone understood–Briony’s daughter was now her only reason to go on.
No one tried to stop her anymore, no matter how weak she was.
…
In the neonatal intensive care unit:
With the nurse’s help, Briony changed into a sterile gown and was escorted inside.
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Her daughter lay in an incubator, hooked up to tubes and wires, a respirator keeping her tiny body alive.
Briony reached out, laying her hand gently against the warm glass, her fingertips tracing her daughter’s fragile cheek.
“She’s so small…”
Her voice was a broken whisper. “Sweetheart, you have to be strong now. Your brother is gone, and your mother needs you. I know it’s hard, but… for me, for your mother–stay. Please, just stay with me…”
Chapter 276
