Her hand hovered over the baby, trembling as she brushed the blanket back. The child’s eyes opened, wide and pleading. Clara’s chest tightened. For a moment, she let herself believe this was a miracle—something sent just for her. But she was still a nurse, bound by duty, and she knew what she had to do. She couldn’t just take the child home.
With a heavy heart, she whispered to herself, “This isn’t mine,” and walked toward the police station, the baby cradled in her arms.