Page 141 of Beautiful Agony

"It's a girl," Dr. Chen announces, though we already knew. "She's perfect."

Lacey collapses back against the pillows, exhausted but smiling through her tears. I kiss her damp forehead, my own vision blurring.

That cry. Our daughter's first breath in this world. It's the most beautiful sound I've ever heard.

"Would you like to cut the cord?" Dr. Chen asks me.

I nod, unable to find my voice.

The surgical scissors feel foreign in my grip, and my hands tremble slightly as I cut through the umbilical cord.

Dr. Chen efficiently cleans and swaddles our daughter before placing her in Lacey's waiting arms. My heart clenches at the sight of them together.

"Hi there, Larina," Lacey whispers, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm your mama."

I move closer, drawn by an instinct deeper than anything I've known before. Larina's tiny face is still red and scrunched, dark wisps of hair plastered to her head. She has my coloring but Lacey's delicate features.

"Look what we made," Lacey says softly, turning those amber-flecked eyes to me. The love shining in them steals my breath.

I sit on the edge of the bed, wrapping my arm around Lacey's shoulders as we both gaze down at our daughter. Dr. Chen says something about monitoring and check-ups, but her words fade into white noise.

All I can focus on is how perfectly Larina fits in Lacey's arms. How her tiny chest rises and falls with each breath. How her little hand has worked free of the swaddling to curl around Lacey's finger.

"Zvyozdochka," I murmur, pressing a kiss to Lacey's temple. "You were incredible."

Larina's eyes flutter open at the sound of my voice. They're still that newborn dark blue, but I swear I catch a glimpse of gray—my mother's eyes—in their depths.

She looks up at us with an expression of such innocent trust that it nearly breaks me. This tiny, perfect being that we created together. That we will protect with everything we have.

The door opens and our family files in quietly.

My mother enters first, tears streaming down her face as she sees her granddaughter. Serena follows close behind, practically bouncing with excitement to meet her niece.

I catch movement from the corner of my eye as Megan approaches the bed. Her fingers linger on Demyon's for aheartbeat before she pulls away. Even through my euphoria, I notice the redness rimming her eyes, the slight tremble in her lip that she's fighting to control.

Something has happened between them, but I push the thought aside as Larina stretches in Lacey's arms.

Lenka hovers near the foot of the bed, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. Even Clifton, who rarely shows emotion these days, reaches for Larina's tiny hand with wonder in his expression.

But it's Larina who holds my attention. The way her chest rises and falls with each breath. How her lips purse in a tiny 'o' as she yawns. The perfect arch of her eyebrows, just like Lacey's.

Megan settles next to Lacey, and I catch that exchange of look between the sisters.

"Oh my God, she's perfect," Megan whispers. "Look at those tiny fingers."

Larina's hand flexes, as if responding to her aunt's voice. My heart swells watching her react to the world around her. Every small movement captivates me completely.

A gentle touch on my shoulder pulls me from my thoughts. I look up to find my mother's storm-gray eyes—the same ones I inherited, the same ones I see hints of in Larina—brimming with tears.

"You're a grandmother now,mamechka," I say softly in Russian.

She smiles through her tears, and for a moment, I see the woman she must have been before Pyotr destroyed her life. The woman who once held me like Lacey holds Larina now.

As if sensing my thoughts, Larina's face scrunches up and she lets out a piercing wail. Lacey shifts her position, trying to soothe our daughter.

"I think that's our cue," Megan says, rising from the bed. "Come on everyone, let's give them some space."

The room slowly empties until it's just the three of us. I move closer to Lacey as she cradles Larina against her chest.

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