Page 38 of The Edge Of Us

I stared at her. My throat thickened, and I blinked hard.

"She's not a failure," Bennett added softly. "She's the reason you're still breathing."

---

Three Days Later

I heard Astrid's cry before I even saw her.

The facility had a private visiting room for "sensitive guests," which I'd quickly learned was code for we don't want paparazzi near your baby. My mother was already inside when I walked in, Astrid in her arms, Kyle sitting cross-legged on the floor building a block tower.

"Mommy!" Kyle ran to me, nearly knocking me over.

I dropped to my knees and hugged him like I hadn't seen him in years. Maybe, in some way, I hadn't.

"You smell like crayons," I said into his hair.

He giggled. "I made you a picture! It's us and Spidey and Astrid and the sun."

I kissed his forehead. "That's my favorite lineup."

Astrid whimpered, and my mom handed her over gently. "She's teething. But she smiles when she hears your voice."

I pressed her to my chest, breathing in that sweet, milky scent. Her tiny fingers tugged at my shirt, and I smiled through my tears.

"They miss you," my mother whispered. "We all do."

"I'm trying, Mom," I said, my voice breaking. "I really am."

"I know, baby. I know."

I looked up and noticed one of the nurses watching from the glass. A few other patients had taken notice too. Whispers had already started-That's Corinne Holt. The model. The influencer. The one with the suicide scare. The one with a destroyed marriage.

They looked at me like I was some fallen angel. A warning sign. Or worse, a headline.

I didn't care. Not today.

---

Evening - The Lounge

Tate threw a chip at my head.

"You're zoning out again," he teased.

"I was reflecting," I said, stealing one of his Oreos. "You should try it sometime."

"Therapy already turning you poetic," Sylvia grinned, braiding her hair.

"I'm still a mess," I said. "Just a slightly self-aware one."

Brittany was sitting across the room, flipping through a notebook. She hadn't spoken to anyone yet. Not really.

"I don't think she's spoken a full sentence since she got here," Tate muttered.

"She watches everything, though," Sylvia said.

I stood. "Maybe she's waiting for someone to go first."