The light behind me blinded her for a moment, revealing a face drenched in tears. Her eyes were red and swollen, yet she immediately tried to sit up when she saw me. She wiped her face in a frantic rush using her sleeves, her hands, anything she could find but the tears kept falling against her will, as if her body refused to obey.

  Ariane always offered me a smile every time I entered this room. Always. But today, her smile had collapsed into sobs.

  I flicked on the room light and pulled some tissues from my pocket. I approached the bed, my heart tightening, a spike of panic piercing my chest. Seeing a girl this radiant fall apart gave me the impression that the hospital ceiling was about to cave in on us.

  "Ariane..." I whispered, placing a trembling hand on her shoulder.

  "Tell me what’s happening. What’s wrong?"

  She hiccuped, her shoulders shaking from one last sob, then slowly raised her head. Her blue eyes, reddened by crying, met mine. And despite everything, despite the distress, a small spark of mischief or perhaps survival flickered in her gaze.

  She clumsily wiped a tear and attempted a fragile smile.

  "Oh, this?" she said in a hoarse voice. "Don't make that face, Doctor. I... I was just practicing for my future role in a tragic drama. Do you think I cry aesthetically, or should I wear more mascara?"

  This was clearly not the time for jokes.

  "Ariane, this isn't funny," I breathed.

  "A little," she replied, sniffing. "Have you seen your face? You look like you’ve seen a ghost... or worse, like you just realized you forgot your dessert at lunch."

  She let out a small laugh light, fragile that died out almost instantly. The mask was already cracking.

  "My parents know I'm pregnant... and... and they told me never to come back."

  As she spoke those words, her gaze drifted away. She was no longer with me in this hospital room; she was back in their pristine living room, where everything had shattered.

  [FLASHBACK]

  The rain hadn't started falling yet, but the sky was leaden gray. Ariane stood in the middle of the entryway, her school bag still on her shoulder. Across from her, her father held the pregnancy test he had found in her room. Her mother stood back, arms crossed, her gaze colder than the kitchen marble.

  "Do you realize what you’ve done?" her father snapped. His voice wasn't loud; it was worse: it was full of disgust. "A girl your age... in high school... Do you have any idea what the neighbors will say? What my company will think?"

  Stolen novel; please report.

  "Dad, I... I’m scared, I need you..." Ariane stammered, tears welling up.

  "Scared?" her mother retorted, finally breaking her silence. "It’s for us you should be scared. We gave you everything. And this is how you thank us? By becoming a slut?"

  The word snapped like a whip. Ariane recoiled, her breath hitching.

  "Since you wanted to act like an adult, then deal with it," her father concluded, throwing her things toward the door. "Do not come back here as long as that... thing is inside you. We no longer have a daughter."

  [RETURN TO PRESENT]

  Ariane collapsed further into her hospital bed, the tissue already soaked.

  "They said I was a mistake, Tanashi. That this baby was a mistake."

  I stood there, petrified. Anger began to boil beneath my white coat. How could parents throw away their child like trash over a matter of reputation?

  "You are not a mistake, Ariane," I said, my voice low but firm. "And neither is this baby."

  She raised her red eyes toward me, searching for a glimmer of hope. At that precise moment, I no longer felt like just her doctor. I felt that if I didn't do something, she would drown under a weight I couldn't yet see.

  Gradually, Ariane calmed down, drained by her own tears. She eventually drifted off to sleep, curled up on the bed, the tissue still clutched in her hand like a lifeline. I stayed there for a moment, motionless, watching her breathe. The silence of the room felt heavy almost too heavy.

  And as I watched her sleep, the reality hit me: she had nowhere to go. No family, no refuge, not even a place to feel safe. If I let her leave this hospital now, she would be alone in a world that had never been kind to her. Alone... or worse.

  I stepped out into the hallway, my face grim, and pulled out my phone to call Mila. She picked up on the second ring.

  "Tanashi? What’s going on? I just finished my shift."

  "Mila... I need your help. It’s about Ariane. Her parents... they kicked her out."

  A heavy silence settled over the line. I could only hear Mila’s breathing, followed by a muffled curse.

  "Those monsters..." she whispered. "They really just threw her away like that? In her condition?"

  "She has nothing left, Mila. No money, no home. I can't let her leave alone. If the hospital administration finds out she’s homeless, they’ll call social services, and she’ll get lost in the system. They’ll take the baby away from her."

  "What are you thinking, Tanashi?" Mila asked, her voice turning more serious.

  "You know we’re risking our careers if we hide a patient or falsify discharge papers."

  I looked through the room’s glass pane. Ariane looked so small, so fragile beneath the white sheets.

  "I don’t care about my career, Mila. I can't let her down. Do you still have that small apartment above your sister’s? The one that’s been empty since last month?"

  "Tanashi... that’s illegal."

  "I’ll pay the rent. I’ll handle everything. We just need a place where she’ll be safe, away from prying eyes, until the birth. Please."

  I heard Mila let out a long sigh. She was the best midwife I knew, and her heart was as big as her temper was fierce.

  "You’re a real idealistic idiot, Tanashi," she grumbled, but I could feel a smile in her voice.

  "Fine. I’ll go grab the keys. But tell her she’d better not make a sound; my sister hates noisy neighbors."

  "Thank you, Mila. I owe you one."

  "Don’t thank me. We’re in this mess together now. If we get caught, we’ll both end up selling bandages on the street."

  I hung up, a hand pressed against my forehead. A part of me was trembling, but another part, deeper down, finally felt at peace. For the first time in my life as a doctor, I wasn't just following a procedure. I was taking action.