“I think she’s waking up, Doctor,” a woman’s voice murmured, far away, as far away as the foggy light that was now crashing through the darkness, ripping away my peace.

I’d found it.

Peace.

Sweet nothingness.

Emptiness.

A void in the dark that existed and ceased to exist, all at once.

Allowing me to do the same.

I was gone.

Lost, but not from myself — from the light and the blinding pain that accompanied it.

I’d touched death, my fingers caressing it like a whisper as it reached for my hand to lift me up to freedom. I could still feel its velvety touch, like the promise of a ghost in a dream that never appeared.

I was so close to death that I yearned for it to pull me in.

Instead, the light came closer, and I slipped away.

Back to this light, this life, this reality that was way too hard to bear sometimes.

I heard the woman’s voice come closer.

“She’s stirring,” she said. I don’t know how she knew I was alive, I barely knew it myself, and I was fighting it harder than I’d ever fought anything before.

I kept my eyes clenched tightly, resisting my return like a baby refusing to exit the womb.

My eyes flew open as I remembered — my baby.

Like a rocket exploded in my brain, I jerked wide awake, my hands flying to my stomach. A low moan escaped my lips, my heart skipping a beat as I panicked at the flatness I felt there.

Warm hands caressed my arm, pushing me back against the pillows.

“Shhh,” the man’s voice said. I scanned his face, not truly seeing it, barely hearing him. “Your boy’s okay. He’s doing just fine.”

He? My boy?

I stared back at him, my heart ripped open as I tried to sit up. The pain jolted me back into my body and I screamed in excruciating agony.

“You’ve got to stay still,” he said. “I had to take him. A cesarean. It’s going to take some time to recover. You’ll be in quite a bit of pain for a few weeks.”

“Where is he?” I cried, searching the man’s eyes. “Who are you?”

“Shhh,” he said, rubbing my arm gently, his brown eyes gentle and soft. “You’re both safe at the hospital. I’m Dr. Jason Boone and my nurses are with your son. They’re the best nurses in the state and they’re taking excellent care of him. They’ll bring him in soon, I promise. For now, you need to rest. You’ve suffered a lot of injuries. I want you to just sleep, as much as possible, okay?”

I nodded, settling back into the pillows, my body screaming in blinding pain.

“It’s hurts,” I croaked, my voice cracking. I was so vulnerable, so helpless, and I felt a familiar bubble of anger rising in the back of my throat. I felt like a wild animal, trapped.

“Now that you’re awake and talking, we’ll increase the morphine,” he said, nodding over at the nurse. “The police are going to want to talk to you soon, but I’ll hold them off as long as I can, alright?”

I nodded, and he handed me a small glass of water. I drank it, the coldness spreading through my chest, burning like wildfire.

His eyes were kind. Brown, with little golden flecks that sparkled under the fluorescent lights above. He had long, lush, black lashes that any woman would be envious of. He touched my arm again, so gently I could barely feel his touch, staring down at me with the same gentleness in those brown eyes.

“I’m going to take good care of you,” he said. “What’s your name?”

“My name?”

“Yes. The police didn’t find any identification on you.”

I nodded, staring up at him, wondering what he knew about me.

If he knew where I came from.

If he knew who I was.

“Just a first name,” he said. “That’s all I need right now. Just so I know what to call you.”

“Daisy,” I whispered. “I’m Daisy.”

“Daisy,” he whispered, smiling. “That’s nice. You can call me Jason. I’m not much for formalities.”

“Jason, got it,” I nodded, searching his eyes, anxiety and pain ripping through me. “When can I see my son?”

“I’ll see if I can make that happen real fast,” he winked. “Hold tight, okay, Daisy?”

I nodded, watching as he walked out, his tall figure framed by thick, wide shoulders. The door closed behind him, and I looked down at my body. I’d always felt so disconnected from it, and now the excruciating pain was sending me right back into it, just like the light that had ripped me from death’s sweet caress, discarding me right back into this suit of flesh that had doomed me from the very beginning.

I may not know how I was going to do it, but I had no choice but to stay in it now. Leaving wasn’t an option anymore.

I was a mother now.

I had a purpose.

A reason to live.

A boy.

A little baby boy. All my own.

Suddenly, my lust for the promised escape of death had lost its power.

A boy.

My boy.

I took a deep breath, breathing into the pain, letting it wash over me, letting it seep into me and become me.

I could take it. However much the universe felt I was due, I knew I could take it.

Death’s grip was broken and I was alive for a reason.

The door opened and Jason appeared again, his arms full of a tightly wrapped, wiggling bundle of life.

When he placed him in my arms, the pain disappeared.

“He’s beautiful,” I whispered.

It was all life now, it was all light.

He stared up at me, his tiny eyes reflecting the wonder in my own.

Life.

Light.

Love.

I had everything I ever needed in my arms.

I didn’t feel the heat of the tears pouring from my eyes. I didn’t feel the pounding of my heart. I didn’t see the gentle kindness in the stranger’s eyes next to me, either.

I only saw my son and the pain of the past cracking and dissolving around me.

Everything that came before this moment was insignificant. Everything I’d dealt with, all the misery I’d lived through, I’d done it all to get here and I knew now, that if I had to, I’d do it all again.

Strength pumped through my veins like steel, instilling a sudden knowledge that no storm would be too brutal to weather again. Never again would I caress the hand of death so lovingly. I turned my face away from the promise of never-ending darkness and embraced the light.

I embraced my son.

I embraced our future.

I embraced love.

Because now, after all this time, I finally knew what love was.