My heart feels like it is leaping out of my chest. Tris was pregnant. We have a daughter! No. I have a daughter.
The doctor continues, "I am sorry to inform you that your girlfriend's injuries were fatal, but I was able to save the baby. Unfortunately, your child is very premature, so there is still a possibility we still may loose her. Your girlfriend was only four and a half months. The baby's chances are not good."
This tugs at my emotions more than anything ever has. Being wiped by Marcus is nothing compared to this deep ache.
Tris is gone. Now, I may loose my daughter too.
I wipe my eyes to rid them of tears. "Her name was Tris." I informed her.
She nodded and led me into the room.
Hooked up to many machines and in a plastic box lays my daughter. She is so small. It is a miracle that she has made it this long. Tris had endured so much while she was pregnant; it is socking that our daughter is alive. It is even more shocking that her mother is gone.
Taking a breath, I cross the room and lay my hand on the box. As if on cue, my daughter opens her eyes. They are a blue grey just like her mothers. She is so small; I can not believe a baby this small can survive. Still, her chest moves up and down with the aid of a machine.
Before I can stop myself, I name her. "Miracle." I say it aloud.
The doctor gives me a questioning look and asks, "Would you like me to get her a birth certificate?"
"Yes." I answer.
While she is out, I examine my daughter. Tris would have loved her. She has her eyes, my hair, a rounded nose, and long eyelashes.
A smile forms on my lips despite the circumstances. My daughter is adorable and alive.
When the doctor came in, she asked, "What will her name be?"
I say, "Miracle Beatrice Eaton."
"Father?"
"Tobias Eaton."
She looks a bit surprised but continues. "Mother?"
"Tris. Beatrice Prior."
The doctor stops writing and says, "She has two very important parents."
Narrowing my eyes, I correct, "Miracle has a father that loves her and a mother that would have." Miracle is not going to be some child celebrity because of her parentage. She will be whoever she wishes to become.
I am handed the birth certificate, and the doctor checks on Miracle.
"Do you wish to tell the others about Miracle?" The doctor asked.
Remembering what Miracle's chances are, I say, "No. I do not want anyone to know about Miracle until we know she is going to make it."
"Understood." The doctor says. Then she adds, "I am Doctor Taylor, by the way." I nod, and she informs me, "Because the mother has passed away, in order for you to gain custody of your daughter, you will have to get a DNA test as proof Miracle is indeed your daughter."
Giving as cold of glair I can muster, I inform Dr. Taylor, "Miracle is my daughter. There is no doubt about that. Tris would be discussed and appalled that you are suggesting otherwise."
Holding her hands up in submission, the doctor explained, "No. We want the DNA test done only so there can be no further questions that come up down the road legally. I do not want the Bureau trying to take your daughter away from you. Also, it will help us treat her if we can see what she might have inherited from you."
"Fine."
She quickly pulls several vials out, and fills three with my blood and one with Miracle's. I did not even feel when she takes mine, but I had to restrain from hitting Dr. Taylor when Miracle whines. It is obvious that I am going to be an overprotective father.
After stowing the vials away, all except three empty ones, Dr. Taylor asks, "Do you wish to let the others see the body?"
I was about to ask what body. Then I remembered that it was Tris's.
She added, "I stitched her up from the operation to save Miracle, so you can't tell she was pregnant. Her clothing covers everything except the bullet wound in her neck."
Nodding, I say, "Yes. They can see Tris." I made sure to use her name.
Dr. Taylor walks into the waiting room while I stay in the doorway. My face is emotionless, but inside I feel anything but. Dr. Taylor already told me that someone was going to be looking after Miracle around the clock, so my main concern this moment is not breaking down again.
Immediately, Christina asks, "Is Tris alright? What happened?"
Dr. Taylor explained what happened to Tris. Everyone was shocked, and Christina started to break down. To my surprise, Caleb even looked torn up.
Miracle was not mentioned.
At Tris's bedside, I grabbed her cold hand. My tears have dried, but it does not lesson the pain. My skin itches where her blood still clings to it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Dr. Taylor using the three remaining villas to draw blood from Tris.
My throat starts to close up when I think about Miracle growing up without her mother.
I kneel down holding her hand for hours before I walk out.
That night, I sleep in Miracle's room.
The next day, I am called to meet someone late at night. Reluctantly, I go.
When I reach one of the labs, I see Dr. Taylor and Matthew. This can not be good.
Matthew explained, "Dr. Taylor asked me to see if the DNA from two individuals were related, and I recognized one as yours. I wanted to ask you face to face, does the other DNA sample belong to your child?"
I was baffled that Matthew had recognized my DNA; then again, he had examined it before. On the other hand, at least he respected me enough to ask me directly.
"Yes." I admit. "Tris was pregnant with my child when she was shot. Neither of us knew for sure, so we chose not to believe it. It was only after I reached the weapons lab that I saw Tris was pregnant, so I rushed her to the infirmary. There Dr. Taylor was able to save Miracle."
Fiddling with his hand, Matthew said, "I am sorry about Tris." Then he added, "As expected, the tests showed you are your daughter-Miracle's father."
I gave a quick nod. "Don't tell the others. We don't know if Miracle is going to make it yet." It is an excuse. Really, I want Miracle, the last part of Tris, to myself for a while. I need my daughter.
"Of corse." Matthew replies, but he still looks troubled.
I ask, "What?"
He looks everywhere but me. Then he admits, "I noticed an idiosyncrasy in her genes, but I have not pinpointed the cause. I am running inscription codes to find out the problem as we speak."
"If you are saying that there is something wrong with my daughter, save it." I inform him.
"I-".
Cutting him off, I snap, "She is not genetically damaged no matter what you say. She is my perfect little daughter! She does not have some genetic deficiency.
Matthew corrects, "I am not saying she is a GD. She is a GP, but that is not what I was talking about. She has a rare genetic condition that I am still trying to understand." He calmly adds, "Please, let me figure it out."
"No!" I growl. "Do not try to figure anything else out with her genetics or DNA or anything like that. If we need to confront that some time later in her life, we will do that, but right now, we need to focus on her health." Setting my head in my hands, I mumble, "She is the only thing I have left."
"I am sorry Tobias." Matthew says.
Walking away, I say, "Don't pity me."