Chapter 45 - The Baby Nobody Was Allowed to Control
Victor cried.
Then denied crying.
Everyone saw him.
“You cried,” Hannah said.
“Allergies.”
“In December?”
“Indoor heating.”
Matthew pointed.
“You hugged a refrigerator.”
“I needed stability.”
Lily laughed so hard she had to sit down.
The pregnancy changed the family overnight.
Victor sent Matthew seventeen links about infant car seats.
Matthew blocked him for two hours.
Victor created a college trust before the first ultrasound.
Lily made him cancel it.
“No financial structures until the child has fingers.”
Victor looked personally wounded.
At ten weeks, complications began.
Lily developed bleeding.
The hospital admitted her overnight.
Matthew stood beside the bed trying very hard to remain a doctor’s boyfriend and not a terrified child.
The fetal heartbeat remained strong.
The obstetrician explained that many pregnancies with early bleeding still progressed normally.
Matthew nodded.
He understood statistics.
Then spent the entire night ignoring them.
At three in the morning, Victor arrived with coffee.
Matthew frowned.
“Why are you here?”
“Hannah called.”
“Traitor.”
“She learned from me.”
Victor sat.
For twenty minutes they said nothing.
Then Matthew whispered:
“What if I become you?”
Victor looked over.
“What?”
“As a father.”
Victor almost laughed.
“That is your biggest fear?”
“Yes.”
Victor thought.
“You will.”
Matthew stared.
“That was not comforting.”
“You will become parts of me.”
Matthew stayed silent.
“You’ll worry too much.”
Victor counted on his fingers.
“You’ll make decisions because fear convinces you urgency is wisdom.”
Matthew smiled faintly.
“You’ll occasionally be unbearable.”
“Occasionally?”
“Do not interrupt.”
Victor continued.
“You’ll apologize after you fail.”
Matthew looked at him.
“You’ll learn.”
Victor’s voice softened.
“And your child will become parts of you.”
“That’s terrifying.”
“Yes.”
“So how do you stop passing down the bad parts?”
Victor looked through the hospital-room window.
“You don’t control inheritance.”
He thought of Dominic.
“You create enough safety that your child can reject what doesn’t belong to them.”
Matthew’s eyes filled.
That was the entire Davis story.
Not purity.
Choice.
Lily’s pregnancy stabilized.
Months passed.
Public trials began.
Evelyn Shaw faced dozens of federal charges.
Adrian Mercer accepted a plea agreement.
Dr. Crane cooperated.
Arthur pleaded guilty to financial offenses related to the stolen money and data breach.
Because he voluntarily disclosed everything and returned the funds, prosecutors recommended limited incarceration followed by supervised service.
Victor testified truthfully.
Even when testimony embarrassed him.
Especially then.
Daniel Mercer attended one hearing.
He and Victor sat on opposite sides of the courtroom.
Afterward, Daniel approached.
“My father’s hand never healed properly.”
Victor nodded.
“I know.”
“How?”
“I looked up the medical records years later.”
Daniel frowned.
“You never contacted him.”
“I was ashamed.”
“That didn’t help him.”
“No.”
Victor did not defend himself.
Daniel studied him.
Then handed him an envelope.
Inside was Samuel Mercer’s old union card.
Victor looked confused.
“Why give me this?”
“I don’t want it.”
“You should keep it.”
“No.”
Daniel shook his head.
“I spent my whole life carrying proof that my father was wronged.”
His eyes filled.
“My daughter almost inherited that job.”
Victor looked toward Emily, who waited near the courthouse steps.
Daniel continued.
“I’m done.”
Victor closed the envelope.
“Do you forgive me?”
Daniel laughed softly.
“No.”
Victor nodded.
“Fair.”
“But I don’t hate you anymore.”
That was more than Victor deserved.
And enough.
Six months later, Lily went into labor during Sunday dinner.
Her water broke while Victor was explaining why hospital parking garages were poorly designed.
Hannah looked down.
“Victor.”
“What?”
“Stop talking.”
Lily gripped the table.
Matthew went white.
“I think—”
Another contraction.
Lily stared at him.
“You are a doctor.”
“Not this kind.”
“Then become useful.”
Chaos followed.
Victor tried to call three hospital executives.
Lily threatened to ban him from the delivery floor.
Hannah took his phone.
Matthew drove.
Marcus, somehow present despite being retired, followed.
Twelve hours later, a baby girl entered the world screaming.
Matthew cried before she did.
Lily cried.
Hannah cried.
Victor stood outside the room because Lily had made everyone except Matthew wait.
When Matthew finally opened the door, Victor stood.
“Well?”
Matthew smiled.
“She’s perfect.”
Victor covered his mouth.
“What’s her name?”
Matthew looked back toward Lily.
Then answered.
“Sofia Hannah Davis.”
Victor stopped breathing.
Hannah began sobbing.
“You named her—”
Matthew nodded.
“For both of them.”
Victor entered slowly.
Lily held the tiny baby.
Victor approached like he was walking toward something sacred.
“Can I?”
Lily smiled.
“Yes.”
Victor took his granddaughter.
His hands trembled.
Thirty years earlier, those hands had broken Samuel Mercer’s.
Held weapons.
Signed documents without reading them.
Built walls.
Then they had held Matthew after gunfire.
Held Hannah at their wedding.
Opened foundations.
Carried chocolate cake.
Now they held a seven-pound baby.
Victor looked down.
“Hello, Sofia.”
The baby opened her eyes.
May you like
Victor immediately cried again.
This time nobody allowed him to blame allergies.
