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you have a lifetime before you, I'll adore you, come what may
The child is a boy, just as Serena told George from the start, small but stubborn as his mother and determined to live.
She names him for his father – the father he's unlikely to ever meet – and gives him her maiden name as his middle. She figures it's the last chance she has for her family's name to live on, long after the rest of them were lost to her.
A week or so after she delivers him she's told she can leave the hospital but he's not ready, yet, and that's a reality she doesn't easily accept. If she were back in North Carolina instead of this strange, forward place, she might have more sway in bringing him back to the apartment that she's been assigned, but neither the doctors nor nurses will hear any of it.
So she leaves the hospital without her son – a day after Mother's Day, of all days – watching him through glass before she heads on. She'll be back in the evening, she tells them, although once she's outside she's not sure where she'll find the strength. She has two scars, now. The one burned in her back and one on her belly, each telling a story of survival against all odds.
Nothing to her name except a few clothes the nurses had given her and an envelope that has cash, a key and the strangest phone she's ever seen, she lingers outside the hospital for a few minutes before asking for help hailing a cab. Someone tells her it's 2017 (a fact she's still struggling to believe) and to use something called an app.
For the first time since she was a young girl, covered in ash, Serena feels totally at a loss.
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Lily nods, sympathetic. "I can imagine. Is your son still in the hospital?"
She guesses he must be, if this woman doesn't have him with her. She doesn't want to think of the alternative possibility.
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Back in North Carolina, a lot of children wouldn't have survived being born so soon. Prayer and wives' tales were used where medicine is here. "They say he's healthy but his lungs aren't quite developed."
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"I'm sure you'll be able to see him every day though, right?" She asks. She knows if it were her son, they would have to drag her away from his bedside.
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At the woman's question, she nods, trying not to let the guilt bother her too much. It wasn't like she agreed to be discharged without a fuss. "They have visiting hours," she says. "There are a lot of infants a lot more ill than him in there. I told them I'd be back in the afternoon."
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She shakes out of it, just as the cab pulls up.
"I think that's our ride, if you're ready?"
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And for a few more days, no son.
But she nods, as stoic as she is stubborn. "I am, thank you," she says, then thinks to extend her hand to shake the other woman's. "I'm Serena Pemberton, by the way."
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"It's nice to meet you, Serena. I'm Lily Potter."
It still gives her a thrill, to be able to introduce herself as such. Especially after everything that she's been through with her husband.
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