And the question he asked next made my heart race.
PART 1
Luca and I had been married for four years.
From almost the very beginning, we had dreamed of becoming parents. But month after month passed with no good news, leaving us with a heavy, quiet grief.
So when I finally saw two dark lines appear on a pregnancy test, I burst into tears. Luca cried, too. Throughout my pregnancy, he was intensely, overwhelmingly emotional.
“You and this little girl mean everything to me,” he would whisper late at night, resting his warm hand gently on my belly.
For most of those nine months, I felt as though we were finally living the safe, happy life we had waited so long for.
Then came the delivery.
After nearly twenty-one exhausting hours of labor, the atmosphere in the room suddenly changed. The monitors began sounding sharp alerts. Nurses hurried in. One of them quickly guided Luca out into the corridor while the medical team focused entirely on me.
“Please, just make sure they’re both okay!” I heard him call out desperately before the heavy doors swung shut.
At 3:17 the next afternoon, our daughter was finally born.
Fiona.
She arrived crying strongly, breathing normally, completely healthy. By the time I was fully awake again, soft morning sunlight was spilling through the hospital window, and our little girl was sleeping peacefully beside my bed.
The second I lifted her into my arms, tears overflowed my eyelashes. After everything Luca and I had survived, she was finally here.
When visiting hours opened, Luca came through the door first. He carried a fresh vase of flowers and wore such a radiant smile that I almost started crying all over again.
“This is the absolute best day of my life, Jessi,” he breathed.
Then he walked toward Fiona’s bassinet. He leaned down.
And his smile vanished. Completely.
For several seconds, Luca didn’t move. He simply stared at our daughter’s tiny face. Then the vase slipped from his numb fingers and shattered against the floor, water and stems spilling across the tiles.
My joy immediately turned into a cold spike of panic.
“Luca?” I whispered, my voice trembling. “What’s wrong?”
He slowly looked at me. I had never seen that expression on his face before—a horrific mix of shock, terror, and something that looked almost like recognition.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked quietly.
My chest tightened. “Tell you what?”
His eyes filled with sudden tears. “Look at her, Jessi. You really don’t see it?”
I frowned, looking down at my sweet, sleeping baby. “See what?”
