Chapter 10 - Holding On
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That evening, a nurse wheeled me down the long, quiet corridor to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit for my first official visit with my daughter.
The NICU was a dimly lit room filled with the soft, rhythmic humming of monitors, oxygen pumps, and glowing plastic incubators. We stopped in front of Station 4, where a tiny, fragile creature lay beneath a clear acrylic hood.
Sofia was so small she looked like a porcelain doll. Wires were taped to her chest, a tiny oxygen tube was secured under her nose, and a knitted pink hat covered her dark hair.
The nurse smiled down at me. “You can reach through the port windows, Mom. She knows your voice.”
With my uninjured right arm, I reached through the circular portal and gently touched my pinky finger to the palm of her miniature hand.
Instantly, her tiny fingers curled around mine with surprising strength.
A fresh tear slipped down my face and splashed onto the sterile blanket inside the incubator.
“I’m so sorry, Sofia,” I whispered, leaning my forehead against the plastic shell. “I’m sorry I let him stay near us for so long. I’m sorry you had to come into this world in pain.”
Behind me, Vincent stood quietly, keeping a protective guard over the doorway.
“I promise you something tonight, baby girl,” I whispered, looking at my daughter’s tiny face. “You will never grow up in a house filled with fear. You will never watch a man treat your mother like garbage. You will never have to shrink yourself to make someone else feel big.”
Sofia’s little chest rose and fell beneath the monitors, her grip on my finger remaining firm and unyielding.
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“You’re a Moretti,” I murmured, a soft smile breaking through my tears. “And nobody is ever going to hurt you again.”
In that moment, the last lingering remnants of the broken, terrified woman Ethan had created vanished completely. I wasn't just surviving anymore. I was going to destroy everything Ethan Hayes had ever built, piece by painful piece.
