Page 8 of They Found Us (Found #5)

Katie

It’s quiet and dark. Oh, what’s that? A tiny white light appears in front of me.

When I try to reach out and touch it, nothing happens.

I look down, but I don’t see my body. No arms or legs or body parts.

Just dark emptiness. Mark suddenly comes into my mind.

As the longing for my son grows within me, the white light grows bigger.

An image of his face has me feeling warmer.

The light now fills my vision. It then reappears and disappears repeatedly over and over until I finally realise, I’m blinking.

Once I open my eyes wide, they begin to focus. It’s blurry, but I can see.

“Welcome back, Katie.”

The voice at my side makes me jump.

“It’s okay. Lie back down. I’m Paula, your nurse. You’re in hospital, but we are taking good care of you.”

I recognise her to be the friendly nurse I met on my arrival.

“My son Mark? And my baby?” I cradle my stomach in my arms. It feels empty. “Where are my babies?” I cry.

“Sshh, hey, don’t worry. They are both absolutely fine.

” The nurse takes my hand in hers and lightly squeezes.

“Mark is with your friends. They have taken him to the family room. And your other little boy is here, right beside you.” The nurse lets go of my hand and pushes a tiny Perspex cot towards me.

“It’s a boy.” My heart melts at the first sight of my son. For months, I have tried to imagine what he would look like. I thought he would look like Mark did as a newborn. But he looks different. He’s the image of his dad, like Mark is, but in a different way. “Can I hold him?”

“Of course. Here, let me sit you up a little more and put a pillow under your arm to support you. There, how’s that?” the nurse asks as she places my newborn son in my arms.

“Perfect. Thank you.” My heart pumps hard with love for my child. He makes a little murmuring sound as he wriggles to get comfy. “Is he okay?” I ask, remembering he is a month early.

“He is absolutely fine. He has been checked over by the doctor. Ten fingers and ten toes.” The nurse laughs.

“But you, young lady, gave us quite a scare. The baby’s placenta had started to detach from your uterus wall.

We got baby here out just in time, but you suffered severe blood loss, causing cardiac arrest. Fortunately, the team were able to get you heart going again.

The doctor will go over everything in more detail. You just rest with your little one.”

Feeling very overwhelmed but incredibly grateful to be here, I stare at my baby.

Leo will be devasted he has missed this.

He will be beside himself with me not being there to answer his calls.

He is due back anytime. He did say it would only be two to three days.

We are now into the early hours of day three.

“Paula.”

The friendly nurse is instantly at my bedside. “Yes?”

“Would you mind asking Vanna if she would bring Mark to see me, please? I would really like to see him, and I think it’s time for him to meet his little brother.”

“Of course. I will go and get them from the family room. I’m sure they’ll all be pleased to see you awake. Everyone has been very worried about you. Oh, have you got a name for the little one yet?”

“Yes, we do. My husband and I had decided on a name for both a boy and girl. The boy’s name is Alex, after his late brother. But I will have to check with my husband when he arrives.”

“Alex, lovely.” The nurse gently strokes my son’s head. “Right, I will go and get his big brother. Back in minute.”

The nurse leaves us, and I whisper, “Welcome to the world. Your daddy and I are going to love you so much, and you have got the best big brother.”

I hope Leo is still happy with the name choice.

I better wait to confirm it with him before telling anyone else.

But I know how much his brother meant to him, so I’m sure he will still feel the same about the name.

Leo always felt guilty about Alex’s death.

He wasn’t around when he was killed. Leo was in England, looking for me.

I’m glad Leo wasn’t there, though, as I know Leo would have done anything to protect his brother.

He would have ended up dead too. Alex had unknowingly fallen in love with the daughter of the Martelé boss.

Leo’s father, who was the head of the Guerra at the time, had tried to make a truce between the two organisations.

Which seemed to have been accepted at first. But it was all a trap to gain the Guerra trust and hit them when they least expected.

Leo is sure Alex’s girlfriend was in on the deceit. But soon after, she committed suicide.

I hear Mark shouting down the hallway. The nurse opens the door. She comes in, holding Mark’s hand.

“Now, Mark, remember what I said. Mummy is very tired, and your new brother is very small, so we need to be very careful, okay?”

“Okay,” Mark repeats. His face is a picture as the nurse lifts him onto the bed bedside me. He doesn’t take his eyes off Alex.

“Hey, baby.” Wrapping my free arm around Mark, I pull him towards me and kiss his head, breathing in his scent. “This is your brother.”

“Hello, baby brother,” Mark says, speaking so softly.

“He loves you so much.”

Mark beams with pride, looking from me to his younger sibling.

“Katie, I’m so pleased you are all right,” Vanna says as she enters the room, followed by her husband.

Her tall, dark, and very handsome husband. I can’t take my eyes off him. He has a powerful presence that fills the room. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was a Guerra.

Noise outside my room pulls me away from my stare. Heavy footsteps and a nurse shouting has everyone turning to the door. It swings open, and my breath catches in relief and happiness. “Leo.”

He is a thing of beauty. He stands powerfully.

His crisp suit is a little dishevelled, and his hair is far from the immaculate slicked-back style it was when he left.

But he has never looked so handsome. Butterflies flutter in my stomach at the reminder of when we first got to together in Italy.

It was far from ideal, but it is our story, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.

After a moment of Leo being stuck to the spot, I realise he hasn’t looked at me or our sons yet.

He looks like he has seen a ghost. When I look along his line of vision, I see Vanna’s husband wearing the same disturbed expression.

“Alex,” Leo croaks.

The emotions running through me have my head spinning and my eyes blurring. My limbs start to feel heavy, and I’m worried I might drop my son.

“Paula, please,” I manage to muster through the shallow breaths I can’t help but take.

Paula quickly comes to my aid and takes my baby from my arms and then lifts Mark from the bed as well. Leo’s eyes eventually land on me. But his face disappears into darkness.

Just before I lose consciousness, I hear Leo boom through the room, “Get out! Get the hell out!”

Leo

The air is sucked from my lungs as watch my wife lose consciousness.

“Get out! Get the hell out!” I bellow at my dead brother. My mind is in overdrive, but my priority is my wife.

“What’s wrong with her? You need to help her,” I demand of the nurse, who is working quickly, checking monitors and changing a drip.

“Why don’t you take your boys to the family room, and I’ll send a doctor to come and speak to you.”

“No, I’m staying here.” My outbursts and the seriousness of the situation have Mark screaming and clinging on to my leg.

“Please, sir. Take your boys. Your wife is in good hands.”

Three more medical staff enter the room. One of them helps me push the tiny cot my newborn son has been placed in into the family room. I feel helpless. I don’t do well with not being in control. But for now, the best thing I can do is take care of my boys.

A nurse brings some milk, a blanket, and pillows for Mark, and he is soon asleep on a sofa beside me. Then she passes me some formula and the baby bag.

“Here.” The nurse places my newborn son in my arms. “He’s ready for a feed and no doubt a nappy change. If you need a hand or if there’s anything you need, just give me a shout. I’m right outside the door.”

As I hold him in my arms, I study his little face. His eyes are closed, but his brow is creased with a frown. His arms stretch out, and I place my index finger in his wrinkly hand. He squeezes it tightly and opens his eyes.

“Hello, little one. I am your papa.” And in that moment, our unbreakable bond is made.

My protective mode is activated. I feel a wave of guilt for not being here when he was born and for leaving my wife alone in what has she been through.

I wasn't there to protect her. I vow never to leave their sides again.

As my youngest son begins to stir, I place his bottle between his lips.

Once he tastes the milk, he feeds hungrily.

While I appreciate these first moments with my son, I cannot help but think of my wife.

While I cannot call myself a religious man, I turn to the god of the universe, praying for my wife to live.

Once feeding time is over and I have winded and changed my son, my impatience gets the better of me. As I open the door of the family room, I’m met with a red-haired man I presume is a doctor, given his attire.

“Mr Smith? Is it?” the doctor asks, rereading the notes he has in his hand. As no, I do not look like a Mr Smith.

When we relocated, we decided to keep our first names, as it would get too confusing, but we had to change our last name. So, for all intents and purposes, I am Mr Smith.

“Correct. How is my wife?”

“She is comfortable and conscious. And demanding to see you.”

Of course she is.

“Before you go to her, I would just like to go through her past medical history. Please take a seat.” The doctor gestures to the chair I was sitting on a moment ago.

“No, I’ll stand. Please continue.”