“Is Abby sleeping?” Ellie asked.

“She can’t,” America answered. “She wants to see Carter. They’re supposed to tell us soon when she can.”

“I’d like to see her if I can,” Ellie said.

“Me too,” Falyn said.

Travis gestured for them to follow, and they trailed behind him. Falyn turned to me with an unmistakable warning glare not to upset Camille while she was gone. I sighed and kissed my wife’s hair. She was quietly sniffing, her body jerking against me. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to say it was going to be okay. I didn’t know if it would be or not. I wondered what new heartbreak the next day would bring and how much more our family could take.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

TRAVIS

I WALKED INTO ABBY’S BIRTHING SUITE with Falyn and Ellie, instantly regretting bringing anyone but Carter. My wife’s face lit up for a fraction of a second, and then she tried to hide her disappointment with her sweet smile.

“We can go see him in a few minutes,” I assured her.

Abby’s hair was barely sprouting out of a low ponytail. Pieces had fallen out to frame her face. Her eyes were still red from delivery and then the tears after. I’d never seen her as devastated as the moment they took our son away.

“He’s beautiful,” Ellie said with a smile.

“You saw him?” Abby asked. She sat up on the bed and tucked the loose strands of her hair behind her ear.

“In the hall. He’s just at the end of this wing,” Falyn said.

“That’s comforting.” Abby’s eyes began to gloss over, and she looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold back the tears.

“It’s okay to cry,” Ellie said, taking the chair closest to the bed. “You’ve had a long day. You’re exhausted. Your hormones are going nuts.”

Abby wiped her cheeks. “I don’t want to cry.”

I sat down on the bed next to her, holding her hand. Several pieces of tape secured her IV that was now delivering antibiotics to stave off the infection that had caused her premature labor. She’d tried everything to get her contractions to slow down naturally, but the harder she tried, the more intense and closer together they were. When the doctor told her we were going to have a baby, she broke down. She had such a normal delivery with the twins, we were surprised that a single birth was anything but a breeze.

I knew more than just the infection was to blame. She also had the added stress surrounding my fucking job. Not only was I going to devastate my family to protect them, but it had put my wife and newborn son in danger. I was going to find a way to walk away from the FBI after this. Thomas and I would be lucky if our family was still intact.

“Stop,” Abby said, seeing the expression on my face. “There was nothing we could do. It’s just one of those things.”

“And he’s okay,” Ellie said. “He was wailing like a banshee all the way down the hall. Strong lungs with the temper of a Maddox. He’s golden.”

“Do you think we’ll be able to take him home?” she asked, suddenly hopeful.

I patted her hand. “Probably not. Not right away, anyway. But let’s wait for an update from the NICU before we get too upset.”

“You mean before I get too upset,” she said.

I raised her hand to my lips and closed my eyes. The guilt was almost too much to bear. I was glad Dad had stepped in when he did with Trenton because I was desperate to go back to the days when I could punch my way out of things. Nineteen seemed like a lifetime ago, and quite frankly, adulting blowed. It was so much easier to lose my shit and start swinging rather than to listen to Trenton being an insecure dick stick and having to be the bigger person when all I was trying to do was save his life.

“Baby,” Abby said, watching as my inner turmoil began to seep out.

“Trenton found out about the FBI,” Ellie said. “And that Cami already knew. He’s taking it pretty hard.”

Abby looked at me. “He’s taking it out on you.”

“Who else is he going to take it out on?” I grumbled.

Abby’s fingers intertwined in mine. “Just a little longer.”

I nodded, knowing we couldn’t say any more in front of Ellie and Falyn.

Abby recounted the moments of her labor and delivery, and they all cried again when she detailed watching the nurses wheel Carter out of the room. The sisters hugged, and then Ellie and Falyn returned to the hall outside the waiting room to check on their families.

Abby sighed, resting her head back against her pillow.

“Want me to lay the bed flat?” I asked.

She shook her head, wincing and pressing gently on her abdomen. “You should try to sleep. You’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

“You mean today?”

Abby looked up at the clock on the wall. “Liis will land in a few hours. The nurse said the recliner lays nearly flat.”

I stood up and nodded, walking around the hospital bed to the mauve recliner nearby. The nurse had already set a couple of folded blankets and a pillow in a stack on the seat. The recliner made a scraping sound against the floor as I pushed it closer to her bed. I sat down and shook out a blanket, pulled the lever, and leaned back.

Abby used the remote to turn out the lights, and for a few precious moments, it was quiet. Just as I felt myself drift off, the door opened, and I could hear the nurse swishing around the room. She turned on the dim overhead lamp just above Abby’s bed.

“Hi there, Mrs. Maddox. I thought you might want to try pumping.” She lifted a small machine with tubes and what looked like a mini air horn.

Abby looked horrified. “Why?”

“Carter isn’t going to be strong enough to suckle just yet, so we’ll have to feed him through a tube. We have a special preemie formula, but if you prefer, your milk is best. Is that something you’d like to try?”

“I …” she trailed off, looking at the pump. It was completely foreign to her. She’d breast-fed our twins, but she stayed at home, so she’d never used a pump. “I’m not even sure if I have anything to pump.”

“You’d be surprised,” the nurse said. “His stomach is smaller than a marble, so he won’t need much.”

“And it’s okay with the antibiotics?” she asked, holding up her hand. I was so proud of her. Even exhausted, Abby thought to ask questions that wouldn’t even cross my mind.

“Completely safe,” the nurse said.

“Oookay,” Abby said. She listened as the nurse gave her instructions. When we were alone again, she looked at the tubes and container with contempt.

I sat up. “Want me to help?”

“Absolutely not,” she said.

“I can just—”

“No, Travis. If I’m going to have to sit here with this thing on me like a milk cow, you’re not going to help. You’re not going to watch.”

“Baby, it’s not a bad thing. You’re doing it for our son.”

“It just feels very … personal.”

“Okay,” I said, leaving the pile of blankets behind in the recliner. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“I’ll come back in fifteen. Need anything before I leave?”

“Nope.”

“Good luck, Pidge.”

Abby used the mini air horn as a thumbs-up, and I chuckled, willing to do anything to have a light moment in all of this. I closed the curtain and then the door behind me, and returned to the hall in front of the waiting room where my family was. Camille was sitting alone on a bench.