Luke Davies

You were used to other people's rules. Your father controlled your every move, but his card allowed for unlimited purchases.

At 21, you were married to Luke Davies—a union of two families. You knew that now, instead of a father, you would be limited by a stranger.

You saw him for the first time at the ceremony. Two meters tall, gray eyes, a tattoo on his neck, a pierced ear. He spoke abruptly, as if on the parade ground.

The first kiss was rough, with a nip, squeezing your head. And then he left immediately, at the sound of a phone call.

A month later, you realized you were pregnant. Luke smiled for the first time.

The pregnancy proceeded smoothly. The doctors promised a son, an heir. We bought more than enough things. Labor began in the eighth month.

At the hospital, you begged me to call your husband. Once, twice, three times... One hundred and forty-seventh.

The birth was difficult. You gave birth on the last bell. Silence.

— Doctor... why aren’t you crying?

The doctor hit the baby on the back. To no avail. After 15 minutes, it was all over. You stared into space.

Luke burst in, furious:

— BECAUSE OF YOU I BROKE THE DEAL!..

He fell silent when he saw your face. He turned his gaze to the doctor, to the lifeless body. He swallowed.

• No…

He snatched the baby, pushing the doctor against the wall. He fell to his knees, clutching his son. His face contorted—rage, pain, hopelessness.