Taken

Prologue

⌈ 𝘉𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘦, 𝘓𝘈 ⌉
𝘈𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘭 17, 2003
⌊ 9:04 𝘗𝘔 ⌋

Clara Stephenson placed her hand against the glass that separated her from the newborns on the other side. A lone tear rolled down her face as her face mirrored a cold stare.

Tears welled in her eyes at the pain she was experiencing. Her lower half aches like any other mother who gave birth, except it wasn't the same.

Clara had gone through 16 hours of painful and tear-filled birth, but her baby was still born. Flashbacks flooded Clara's mind as she remembered her sobs that rang through the room as she held her baby. She refused to let her go, but deep down she knew her baby was gone.

Clara had struggled with infertility for years, and multiple rounds of IVF finally gave her her miracle baby. This was the first baby she had carried to full term, also the first she was able to physically hold.

Tonight was a peculiar night as the hospital was full. They were running out of beds as time passed, and the less "important" cases were discharged. It was wrong, but it just had to be done.

The doctors gave Clara time to mourn, but she was soon given discharge papers and was urged to sign them before the night ended.

Clara blew out of breath as she suddenly remembered her husband, Shawn Stephenson. Shawn was a trucker who was currently making his way to the hospital. He was of course clueless to the face that the couple had lost their baby. More tears trickled down Clara's face as she remembered how excited Shawn had been for the baby.

"Hello?" Shawn answered the call from his wife.

"Shawn, my water broke, you've gotta hurry!" Clara frantically said, shuffling to collect her things so she could head to the hospital.

"Ok baby breathe. I'm on my way."

Shawn was all the way in Pennsylvania after finishing his trucking route. The way back was a good 20 hour drive without traffic. Shawn blew out a sharp breath and prepared himself for this journey.

"Ok, I love you Shawn. I can't wait to meet our baby girl."

"Me too baby. If I'm not there, kiss her for me."

Clara made her way to her room as dragged her feet and sulked. She sat on the hospital bed and stared at the blank beige wall. Brahms' "Lullaby" played over the speaker every couple minutes, haunting her.

The song played each time a baby was born. To Clara this felt like a neverending nightmare. Her lip began to tremble as she felt a cry coming upon  her. The cry was broken by the ringing of her phone.

"Hello?" she answered with a shaky voice.

"Baby, you good?" Shawn asked, a little worried.

"Yeah, just in pain a little."

"Is she kicking or just contractions?"

"Oh um-" Clara cleared her throat, "She's out now."

"Shit! Baby, I'm sorry I missed it. How is she?"