She watched the rise and fall of Georg's chest from across the room as he slept upon a small couch, using his arm as a pillow against the wall. It was amazing anyone could sleep like that, she thought, but she supposed he had slept in worse places during his time in the navy. She hadn't remembered him returning to the hospital the night before, but judging by the tray on the table he had eaten supper there. Her stomach growled at the thought that she had slept through supper, even though she wasn't sure she felt much like eating anything at the moment.

The warm glow of the sunrise began streaming through the window of her hospital room, bathing everything in copper and gold tones. If it weren't for the sharp aching in her heart and soul, she would have found it all very beautiful. But no matter how bright the real world was, she felt a darkness in her chest, one she had never before experienced, and she could do nothing but succumb to it at the moment.

She sat up in bed, feeling some mild cramping in her lower stomach, which immediately brought tears to her eyes. The tears weren't from the physical pain, as that was mostly obsolete, but came from somewhere much deeper. She allowed the tears to fall as she got out of bed, pulling her IV cart with her to the bathroom. She couldn't even look at herself in the mirror, unable to see the grief; it was hard enough to feel it. She was thankful the bleeding had calmed down a lot, but the doctor said it could last as long as two weeks, which sounded preposterous to her. A two week long reminder of the way her body had failed her child, she thought bitterly

She had never met a woman who had a miscarriage, or if she had she didn't know it. The women she had met in her life tended to be very quiet about anything to do with their bodies, anything that may be deemed improper to discuss. She had no example of what she was supposed to do or say or feel, no example of the proper way to react. She supposed there was no right or wrong reaction, but the hollow feeling in her soul was terrifying. She had only known about her pregnancy for three weeks, but it still was more than enough time for her to have begun developing a bond. Three minutes would have been enough, she thought.

"Hello." Georg was awake when she returned from the bathroom, sitting upon the couch and giving her a small smile. She nodded in response, returning to the bed and covering up. She didn't even think she could try a smile at the moment. "The doctor should be in soon. Hopefully we'll get to go home."

"Do the children know?" Her voice sounded strange, unlike her usual chipper tone, and she noticed him wince.

"Yes. They were concerned for you, so I sat them down for a talk." More tears fell at his words, though she wasn't sure why. Perhaps the thought of him putting everything in words for the children's ears was too much to think about.

"Brigitta?"

"She took it especially hard, due to the circumstances. She wanted to come with me last night." Brigitta had witnessed more than a girl her age should have, Maria thought. And the idea of watching her panicked father rush her to the car the way he had could not have been good for her mental state. "They'll all be better once they see you're alright."

She scoffed at the irony in his words, but nodded, hearing the faint sound of the shoes she knew to be her doctor's coming down the hall. He was a kind man, stern yet understanding when he spoke to her, and she appreciated that. He gave her permission to get dressed to go, as well as some instructions for her healing. With their wedding in six days, he was adamant that she follow his instructions and rest.

She managed to get dressed, Georg stepping forward to help her with the buttons on her dress, and she ran her fingers through her hair. Georg had forgotten their toothbrushes and a few other necessities, but the nurse must have predicted that and laid out some items for them to use in the bathroom. Everyone had been so kind to her, which brought another bought of tears to her eyes. She had never been much of one to cry, and she wondered if the tears would ever stop.

She took a deep breath of the cool, autumn air as they walked toward the car. The calmness of the morning vastly differed from the angry and heartbroken whirlwind that was crashing inside of her. Georg held her hand sweetly as they walked, his grip holding her in a possessive yet comforting way. He was doing his best to be strong for her, even though he was clearly hurting too. Suddenly she could hear church bells in the distance, and she looked toward their direction and stopped walking. It was almost as if they were calling out to her.

"Georg, can we go to Mass?" It had been a long time since she attended, but she felt it may do them both some good to go.

"Are you sure you're up to it? The doctor said you should go home and rest."

"We don't have to stay the whole time. Just for a moment? I feel I need to go." He hesitated, but he couldn't possibly say no to the desperate look in her eyes. He nodded, and they walked the little way down the street to the church.

She led him into the back section, hopeful no one would see them in their state; neither of them looked very put together under the circumstances. Sister Margaretta noticed her and tapped Revered Mother upon the shoulder, causing her to turn and give a smile and nod in her direction. She gave a small wave, still unable to muster a smile.

She wondered if Reverend Mother would be a good place to seek comfort, but equally wondered if she would imply her miscarriage was a punishment for her sins, for the pregnancy occurring out of wedlock. Maria did not believe God would be so cruel in his teachings, but she also knew her thoughts and beliefs weren't necessarily the most traditional at times. Perhaps she would wait until she felt a bit more stable before she sought Revered Mother's council, she thought.

Georg held her hand through the duration of Mass, and when the time came to kneel and pray she found him kneeling right along beside her, even crossing himself when he was finished. She had never known him to be a religious man, rarely breeched the subject with him due to fear that the man she loved did not share her love of God. But seeing him pray next to her, closing his eyes and speaking to God, she found herself crying for the relief she felt.

And then the tears wouldn't stop at all, so much emotion spilling from her heart. She covered her mouth, bowing her head to keep quiet as the choir began to sing. Georg leaned over to place a kiss upon her cheek, letting her know it was time to go. She agreed, as she was unable to contain herself any longer, and they quickly stood and rushed out the back door.

When they reached the sidewalk outside, he took her into his arms and allowed her to sob into his chest. She couldn't control it in the slightest as she gripped his jacket in her hands and buried her face into him. His hands were warm and rubbed comforting circles upon her back as he held her close, and she thought she heard him sniffle, but could not pull away to look into his eyes. After a moment, she was able to take a deep breath, pulling back to wipe her eyes with her hands. He took out his handkerchief and wiped her cheeks, handing it to her to manage the never-ending stream of tears. She saw him look behind her, and she quickly turned to find Sister Margaretta standing in the archway of the exit, looking a bit bashful and nervous for interrupting. She had clearly seen them leave and was concerned.

"I'm so sorry to intrude." She began to walk away, but Maria stopped her.

"No, don't go." She turned to face them once more, compassion showing in her eyes. She stepped forward and opened her arms, and Maria accepted the hug from her friend immediately.

"I'm going to get the car." Sister Margaretta nodded to him in agreement that she would stay with Maria, and he rushed to bring the car to the church.

"Shall we sit?" Maria nodded, and they walked over to a stone bench upon the sidewalk, sitting together as they waited for Georg. "You seemed so elated when I saw you in town the other day."

"Yes, I was." She sniffled, looking down to the handkerchief in her hands, gripped tightly between her fingers.

"God will help you through. You must stay strong, my dear." She bit her lip, feeling the darkness creeping over her once again, covering her in the black dread she had been pushing so hard against since she left the hospital.

"I...I was, I mean..." She sighed, biting her lip to try keeping calm.

"You don't have to tell me."

"I want to say it. I need to." The nun nodded, and Maria took a deep breath. She wanted to speak the words before she had to face an entire family that knew, before she was faced with seeing the pitiful looks they would all give her. And she knew her friend would keep her confidence. "I...I miscarried a baby yesterday."

"Oh, Maria." The nun wrapped an arm around her, and Maria brought her face to her shoulder in comfort as tears fell from her eyes once more. Saying it hurt just as much as she expected, her heart breaking at the sound of the hateful words falling from her lips.

"We just left the hospital this morning." She sniffled, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief that had quickly become sodden with her tears. "I don't know why I thought I could handle Mass."

"Because we go to the place that gives us comfort when we're grieving. You were neither right nor wrong to come here." She squeezed Maria a bit tighter, doing her best to pass comfort. "God will give you the strength you need, no matter where you seek Him. Even if it doesn't always feel like it, His hand is always guiding yours."

"Thank you." Her words were soft, but she knew her friend heard them. As Georg pulled up to the church, Maria met her eyes and gave her the smallest smile, the best she could do at the moment, and Sister Margaretta placed a comforting hand upon her cheek.

"I will pray for you and your family."

"I'm thankful to call you a friend, Sister Margaretta." She hugged her once more before allowing Georg to open the door of the car and take her home.