><(((•>                     
Jema skimmed through the pages of the book on her lap while patiently waiting at the reception.

The folder contained detailed information about baby Sam. Madame Evana had painstakingly explained every necessary thing about the baby's routine. His meal time, preparations, and medications. 'Guidelines on how to care for preterms' was the title of the book she held.

Despite having undergone extensive training for the past one week, the Madame wasn't satisfied with the lessons, rather she'd handed Jema a fifty-five-paged book to read up.

She sighed at the repeated instructions she'd had to go through over and over again. She wasn't daft for crying out loud and for one, she knew lots about caring for children. She almost had one too.

Madame Evana was stock-still beside Jema, the woman didn't blink an eye nor deter from the conspicuous judgy stares she gave the nurse at the reception—who by the way seemed to be so engrossed in a call. Her finger played with the cords, her cheeks flushed red from the cheesy lines someone told her over the phone. Madame Evana forced a gust of air, embarrassed for the younger generation.

It's been nearly an hour since their arrival, and access to baby Sam was still pending. A preterm with complications the previous night had kept the medical staff busy, and the exclusive nature of the private clinic emphasized their cautious approach to patients and relative interactions.

"Madame, ma'am," a nurse stood before them with a bright smile on her tired face. She gestured for Jema and the Madame to follow her. "Please follow me." she led them through a maze of passages, then showed them to a washroom where they could sanitize before entering the baby's room.

He was a sight to behold. Jema saw the flicker of emotion appear in Madame Evana's eyes. It was the first time she had seen the woman like that. Usually, Madame Evana was cold, distant, and uptight about everything but today, it was clear to Jema that baby Sam meant the world to her.

His tiny hands jiggled up in his crib. His eyes were wide and compelling like they could make your pain disappear. Jema felt drawn to his innocence and wondered why such a poor baby had to endure such harsh realities.

"Why isn't he inside an incubator?" Jema asked the nurse by the side whilst staring delightfully at the little champ. "Is he okay like this?"

"He's totally okay on his own. He's a strong one," she added with a warm smile.

Jema envied even the nurses who got to see these beautiful creatures and held them tight. She yearned to hold him, to let his tiny hands wrap around her pinky.

"She's the one," Madame Evana turned to the nurse and said. The woman stared at Jema with newfound admiration.

"I'm glad you agreed to do this," she said, taking one of Jema's hands in hers. "I know it's a tough one but thank you for caring for kids like him. He's lucky to have you." she gushed.

Jema felt awkward, she didn't know what to make of the gush of emotions from the nurse but she nodded in silence.

Later Madame Evana stepped out with the nurse to have a word, Jema had insisted on a little more time with the baby. She watched him in silence, noting every detail there was. He sure was a bubbly little man, probably took enough strength from his father who used to be a military officer.

Jema smiled at his curious eyes, they were searching hers. Needing to know if she was familiar enough, she made a face and waved earnestly at him. She knew this was the best decision she's ever made, there was no other way to feel alive than getting back what was taken from her.

And while she stood there and watched the little man in his crib smile at her, it sent beautiful butterflies down her belly, and her heart warmed at the thought of nursing him to age.

On their way home, Madame Evana instructed the driver to make a stop at a baby showroom to pick up extra stuff for the baby's crib. It was almost ready in preparation for his arrival which was tomorrow.

Jema cleared her throat and spoke. "Can we bake some cake and get ribbons for the welcome party?"

The woman glared at her like she'd suggested terrorism. "And who approved of a welcome party?"

Jema's shocked expression couldn't be masked. "Why not? I get that it's a private matter but he's finally out of the hospital after so long. Isn't that worth celebrating?" She asked in a breath.

"The master allows no such frivolous activities in his home. And besides, who said we couldn't celebrate in our hearts."

Jema couldn't believe her ears. "In our hearts?" She scoffed frustratedly. She couldn't believe how stoic the Madame was towards a child who held such tenderness in her heart. It baffled Jema how obsequious she was to the master's orders, nothing else mattered except his command.

She fussed and turned on her bed throughout the night thinking about how a troubled child would be able to grow without warmth in a home or rather a house full of cold people. It would be miserable if things didn't begin to change, no child should have to endure such difficult circumstances.

Her phone beeped and a message from his lawyer popped up.

Hi Mrs. Delray, I sent an email requesting your authorization to have his belongings sent over to you as you're his only next of kin. There is a list of other requests in the email, I hope to hear from you soon.
Lawyer, Ben Craft.

Her heart sank, the words on her phone haunted her. There was no running away from everything, now they were requesting her to come pick up from where he left. He left her and their baby and disappeared.

Jema clicked on the delete button and cleared the last message. She was on a new chapter in her life and Jacob wasn't taking it away from her.

*********

Theodore Newman sat at the round table, there were seven of them, five men and two women all cladded in the best clothes and perfumes money could buy. They deliberated on their next line of action since the feds' involvement with the Russian military had restored their operations to a bottleneck. There should be other ways around it or else shipments worth millions of dollars will be risked.

He listened as Cecil Knikorff, a serving minister of the Russian state expounded possible solutions to their imminent situation. There was no going back, especially when the lives of his men were at stake. This secret organization didn't start here, his father, the late Commodore Edgar Newman, was once a stakeholder, likewise, everyone seated at the round table.

After the lengthy discussions, the meeting was over and he could at least have time for himself. He'd long missed the serenity of his hometown, the mansion was the only place he felt safest. Built from scratch by his grandfather, it was indeed an asset, unlike the modern-day homes which seemed to lack the luxury and expertise put into that house.

Theodore strolled through the long passage after exchanging pleasantries with the committee, he met San Jose waiting by the patio.

"How did the meeting go?" Jose extended a hand and they shook.

"Pathetic... the cocky feminist as always showed courage and made lengthy promises."

"We'll bank on that then," Jose offered, falling in step with Theodore as they made for the elevator.

"Is this home?" His friend asked, punching a number in the elevator.

Theodore exhaled in relief, it's been two months in a strange land, tackling a lot of loopholes that were made because of the newly enacted trade policy by the newly elected POTUS.

The previous administration favored them, unlike this one. Theo knew that and made certain to clean the slates before the feds came sniffing around.

"I've had Ottis book us a space in our favorite VIP spot back home. I know you wouldn't want us celebrating at your place so we'll just have to go out." Jose bobbed with excitement. He was really happy the days of late-night meetings and tours were over and they were returning to their normal schedule.

"I'm not down for that Jose, you can drink and party as hard as you wish," Theo admitted nonchalantly.

Jose pulled out an expensive box of cigarettes before his friend, his coy smile said it all. "You know what this is?" He teased, pulling the lid open for Theo to see more. "A fuckin Cohiba Behike, I knew you'd say that Theo so I brought a teaser. If you don't agree then I'm handing these thirty thousand dollars worth of merch to Ms. Hobart and you and I know what that mean." he tempted.

He pulled one out and gently slid it along his perky nose in a bid to lure his friend who was a sucker for quality stogie.

Theo's eyes carefully followed each movement, his dark gaze shining with what seemed like admiration. He caught a whiff of its scent, his lips yearned for the warmth of the cigar on it and its taste in his tongue, bitter and black the way he loved it.

"Last chance Theo or I'll have it dropped off at Regina's." Jose teased.

"Suit yourself, friend." Theo broke off to his friend's greatest surprise.