The first rays of morning crept in through the hospital window, casting a soft glow over the room where Melissa lay, her body aching with the beautiful brutality of childbirth. Her eyes fluttered open to the sound of rhythmic breathing. In the bassinet beside her, Eve slept peacefully, swaddled in her golden-starred blanket, her tiny fists curled as if ready to take on the world.
Max was slumped in a chair next to the bed, still in the clothes from the day before. One hand loosely held Melissa's. His head tilted to one side, eyes closed, breath shallow. There was something disarmingly human in how he looked, no suits, no boardroom presence, just a man who had found something worth surrendering to. Melissa turned her head slightly and watched him, her heart twisting.
Then the door opened quietly. A nurse stepped in with a tablet in hand and a professional smile. "Morning, Miss Kgomotso. Just coming to check on the little warrior."
Melissa nodded and shifted slightly. The nurse moved over to Eve and began gently examining her vitals. Her face flickered briefly as she read the monitor, a pause too subtle for most to notice but Melissa did.
"Is something wrong?" she asked, instantly more alert.
The nurse glanced up with a quick smile. "No, no. Just running an extra test standard for babies born during peak hours. Nothing to worry about."
Melissa narrowed her eyes slightly but said nothing. She watched as the nurse took a small blood sample from Eve, logged it, and walked out without meeting her gaze again.
Elsewhere in the hospital, down a hallway most visitors never saw, the nurse entered a secure room. Inside, the doctor who had overseen Melissa's labor was waiting. He wasn't wearing his usual coat. Instead, he looked like a man halfway out the door, a briefcase in one hand and a burner phone in the other.
"Got it?" he asked.
The nurse handed him the vial. "Yes. She's showing signs already."
The doctor raised an eyebrow. "That quickly?"
"Body temperature shifts. Slight light refraction in the eyes. It's subtle. But it's there."
The doctor slipped the vial into a lead-lined pouch. "Good. Avery will be pleased."
They said nothing else. The nurse left. The doctor placed the pouch in his briefcase and disappeared into the morning fog.
Across town, Rama stood on the dusty edge of the Francistown-bound bus station. He wore jeans, a simple hoodie, and a cap pulled low. No one paid attention to him. The city was still obsessed with headlines about Melissa's dramatic labor and FireThreads' triumphant launch.
He pulled out his phone one last time and typed a message:
You're where you're meant to be. Keep fighting, Mel. I'll be rooting for you, always. – R.
He hit send, then powered down the device and tossed it in a nearby bin. The bus doors closed behind him.
Back in Gaborone, Max had gone home for a quick change. He stood shirtless in front of the mirror, towel slung low on his hips. His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw rough with stubble. He touched the photo of his father on the shelf beside the sink.
"I almost lost them," he whispered. "I almost let everything slip."
Behind him, the door creaked open. His mother entered, still wearing the shawl she'd draped over her shoulders during the FireThreads show. She said nothing but just walked to him and embraced him tightly.
At the hospital, Melissa had drifted into light sleep when the door opened. She stirred, eyes fluttering.
"Melissa?" a hesitant voice said.
Her eyes snapped open. Standing there, clutching a borrowed handbag and an awkward bouquet of supermarket roses, was her mother. Older, grayer, dressed in a faded floral dress. Her eyes were ringed with years of mistakes.
"I saw the news," her mother said. "And I figured… if I was ever going to meet my granddaughter, it had to be now."
Melissa didn't speak for a long time. The silence felt brittle. But then, without a word, she shifted over and pointed to the bassinet. Her mother crept closer, looked down at Eve with trembling hands.
"She's… she's beautiful," she whispered.
Melissa nodded slowly. "Her name is Eve. Evelyn, really."
Her mother reached down, touched the baby's tiny hand. "She'll change everything," she said, almost to herself.
Later that night, one of the nurses walked into the nursery for routine checks. The lights were low. Eve stirred in her sleep. The monitor beside her let out a faint beep.
The nurse frowned. The baby's body temperature was slightly elevated. She double-checked the readings. Then she leaned closer and gasped.
For a split second, Eve's eyes opened. In the dim light, her irises flickered gold.
Not brown as they sould be but a blazing gold colour!. Then she blinked, and they were normal again. The nurse stepped back, heart racing.
"Long night," she muttered, shaking her head. "Too much coffee."
In the room down the hall, Melissa was dreaming. In the dream, she was walking through a wasteland. Everything around her was gray and scorched. But Eve was ahead, walking barefoot through ash, untouched by flames.
Someone's voice echoed in the background.
The world won't be ready for her. But she was born ready.
Melissa awoke with a jolt, heart pounding.
Max returned shortly after midnight, freshly showered, carrying a bag of her favorite lotion and a half-eaten chocolate bar. He sat beside her on the hospital bed and gently pulled her into his arms.
They lay like that for a long time, both watching Eve sleep.
"She's going to change everything," Melissa whispered.
Max smiled faintly. "She already has.."