Chapter 2: She Almost Didn't Make It
PART 2 ⬇️
Sloan sat down slowly, like her legs had finally given out.
She kept her eyes on Willa, not on me.
"She stopped breathing," Sloan said quietly.
"Twice.
In the first week."
The room went completely still.
"The doctors called it an episode.
They ran tests.
They said she might need monitoring for months." Her voice didn't break.
It was worse than that — it was flat, the way a voice gets when someone has already cried everything out alone.
"I sat in that hospital room for four days, Vincent.
Just me and a machine counting her heartbeats."
I couldn't speak.
"I didn't call you," she continued, "because I didn't know if she was going to make it.
And I couldn't watch you decide whether she was worth coming home for."
That sentence hit me somewhere I didn't know I still had.
Willa had stopped fussing.
She was asleep again, one tiny fist pressed against her cheek.
She looked peaceful.
She looked perfect.
And she had almost not been here at all.
"Is she safe now?" I asked.
Sloan finally looked at me.
"The doctors think so.
But there's a follow-up next week.
A specialist." She paused.
"I was going to take her alone."
I pulled out my phone and cleared the rest of the month.
Then Sloan said the one thing I wasn't ready for.
"Vincent…
your mother has been calling me.
She knows about Willa.
And she's not the only one."
---
Someone else already knew about Willa — and said nothing.
What Vincent finds out next will change everything.
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