One morning in early March, a truck pulled up outside a small-town maternity ward. Two guards got out and carried a woman out. She was clearly pregnant and in labor. She could barely walk, staggering in pain, clutching her stomach and lower back. “Hurry up!” the guards shouted. “Why couldn’t you wait until we got to town, you idiot?” The emergency room erupted in commotion as the staff saw their unusual patient.

It wasn’t every day that prisoners were brought to their small maternity hospital to give birth. This one wasn’t even meant to be there. She had gone into labor during the transfer to the specialized women’s prison.

Dr. Barbara Gibbs had just started what promised to be a quiet shift. All her patients had already given birth, and she was looking forward to a peaceful cup of tea. Suddenly, an emergency call came in.

“They’ve brought in a prisoner! What a quiet shift!” The doctor came downstairs. The woman in labor lay half-reclined on the gurney, moaning silently in pain, with the guards and the nurse on duty milling about. “Get her up so she can be cleaned up!” Dr. Gibbs ordered after a quick examination, nodding to the orderlies.

They put the woman on a stretcher and took her away. The guards started following her. “And where do you think she’s going?” asked Dr. Gibbs, surprised.

“You can’t enter the maternity ward. We have special protocols.” “We have our own protocols,” one of the guards retorted. “We must be present.” “Absolutely not!” Barbara exclaimed, blocking their way.

“I won’t allow you to scare other mothers. This isn’t a prison. These are our rules.”

In the absence of the chief physician, I’m in charge. And I decide who comes in and who doesn’t. “You don’t understand.”

She’s a prisoner. We’ve provided all the documentation. “I understand perfectly. But above all, she’s a woman giving birth.”

“What if it slips out?” “Are you serious? She’s six centimeters dilated. Although I suppose that doesn’t tell you much.” Dr. Gibbs shook her head. “I’ve explained myself well.”

“If we can’t assist with the delivery, we have to handcuff her,” the companion insisted. “Believe me, it’s for your own good.” The woman didn’t bother to ask why it might be for her own good. She simply sighed deeply.

“Fine, chain her up. I’ll call you later. Have some decency.” When the woman in labor was taken to the delivery room, her companions handcuffed her to the bed.

“Now go,” Dr. Gibbs ordered sternly. The men left, saying they would wait in the ER. “Did they really teach you who’s in charge here?” smiled the young pediatrician, Sarah Greer.

“I don’t need you interfering here,” Dr. Gibbs murmured, approaching the woman in labor in a soft, warm tone. She asked, “Well, dear, remind me of your name.” “Mia,” the prisoner moaned. “Mia,” the doctor repeated.

Her face lit up with emotion, paling for a moment before regaining her composure. “Listen to me, Mia. Forget everything else.”

The baby is the only thing that matters right now. Its life depends on you. Don’t waste energy yelling.

Just listen to my instructions. The expectant mother nodded obediently. “Woman, prisoner,” the words seemed incompatible with the young woman. She was no more than twenty years old and now she was struggling in the delivery chair, handcuffed.

“How had she ended up in such circumstances? What had she done?” Barbara Gibbs found herself feeling sorry for this girl. And her son—a difficult road lay ahead. Putting aside these unnecessary thoughts, Barbara began her work.

She spoke clearly and confidently, encouraging the woman in labor and remaining attentive and professional at all times. Her voice instilled confidence, helping her cope with the pain and endure everything. The women who gave birth in this maternity ward felt fortunate to be under Dr. Gibbs’ care.

She was like a mother to them; her experience and gentle hands had helped many children enter this world. Dr. Gibbs had worked at this maternity ward for over twenty years, ever since she returned from the city to work as a midwife. She didn’t need badges or medals.

She simply did her job well, receiving only good reviews. But Barbara had also suffered a difficult fate that few knew about. Thirty years ago, after graduating from medical school, Barbara got a job at a maternity ward in the city.

Soon after, she married. Her daughter, Mia, was born, and Barbara was immensely happy. Her husband, Taylor, was developing a significant business at that time.

Although it was a difficult time, he was managing. The family lived well, wanting for nothing. But money, as they say, corrupts people.

Soon, the once loving and attentive Taylor changed completely. He became rude to Barbara, raised his hand to her, and often didn’t come home at night. One day, Barbara saw him hugging a gorgeous blonde.

They walked through the city, kissing. Even when he saw Barbara, Taylor showed no shame; he simply smiled mockingly and said, “What are you looking at? Go home and take care of our daughter.” Barbara didn’t even have the strength to make a scene in the street, her body rigid with pain and her eyes filled with tears.

At home, she tried to talk, but Taylor simply beat her. Later, Barbara wanted to run away to her mother in the district village, but her husband threatened to take their daughter away. He spoke with such conviction that Barbara didn’t dare test his threats.

For several more years, she endured all his humiliation. When Mia was five, Taylor himself announced that he wanted a divorce. He had met an attractive and wealthy woman whose father was a banker or businessman.

And you, hick, get lost. He laughed in Barbara’s face. Barbara, swallowing the insult, was initially relieved by this outcome, but it turned out to be premature.

In court, Taylor won custody of her daughter. Her lawyers fabricated a story that portrayed Barbara as a negligent mother. The court stripped her of her parental rights.

The devastated mother tried for a long time to prove that it was all lies orchestrated by her husband, but no one listened to her. The story centered on an incident that occurred a few months before the divorce. While walking in the park, Mia ran into some bushes as her mother tied her shoelaces.

Suddenly, her daughter screamed. Barbara ran to her. Mia had caught her foot on a wire sticking out of the bushes.

The metal had cut her skin. Barbara immediately took her daughter by taxi to a trauma center, where they stitched up the wound. Although the injury wasn’t serious, it left an arrow-shaped scar on her foot.

The lawyers exaggerated the story, fabricating several other cases of alleged negligence. They even presented witnesses. Barbara needed competent legal representation, but she was at a loss, as she hadn’t expected such malice from her husband.

Taylor took his daughter and disappeared. Mutual acquaintances suggested it was pointless to look for Mia. Taylor had married that woman and moved abroad with her and the child.

Despite Barbara’s efforts, she learned nothing more of Mia’s fate. She had no choice but to return to her mother in the village. There, she found work at the maternity ward, where, for years, she had helped other women become mothers, though she herself had lost that joy forever.

Barbara never remarried and rejected all her suitors. After her mother’s death, she lived alone, devoting all her care and love to her patients. She treated all women equally, whether rich or poor, high-ranking or milkmaids.

They were all vulnerable in their pain. They all needed help. And they received it, just like this young prisoner.

When Barbara heard her name, memories of her daughter resurfaced. But why memories? She never forgot her for a single moment. Now, her daughter would be the same age as this young criminal.

Where was her little girl, her own flesh and blood? Had she become a mother too? Dr. Gibbs shook her head, pushing away her anxiety and focusing on her work. “Mia, this isn’t how it’s done,” she said sternly, and continued giving orders: “Breathe, breathe properly.”

Position your foot like this. As he adjusted the woman’s foot, he saw something familiar. There was an arrow-shaped scar on the patient’s foot.

Though barely visible, Barbara needed only a fleeting glance to recognize the scar she could never mistake for another. It was the one she had kissed when her daughter’s wound healed. She had even dreamed about it.

“Mia,” Barbara whispered, paralyzed with shock. “Yes,” the woman in labor moaned. “Is something wrong? No, no, everything’s fine.”

You’re doing great. Barbara snapped out of it when she noticed the surprised looks from the nurse and the pediatrician. Nothing’s certain yet.

Perhaps it was just a coincidence. Soon after, Mia gave birth to a healthy baby girl. Barbara placed the tiny infant on her mother’s chest and joyfully watched their first encounter.

“My darling daughter,” Mia whispered, kissing her little fingers. “I will not abandon you. I will not give you up to anyone, my darling.”

The young mother wept with such sincerity and bitterness that all the women in the delivery room involuntarily closed their eyes. It was an unenviable fate for the newborn and her mother. Even if they were allowed to be together for a while, they would still be separated.

After all the procedures, the mother and baby were taken to the room. The convoy was allowed in, and the handcuffs were finally removed, with the intention of taking Mia directly to the colony and leaving the child to the guardianship authorities. Mia, sobbing, heard this on the stretcher, but no one paid any attention to her distress.

The bosses ordered it. “How is she?” one of the attendants asked Barbara disdainfully. “The patient is frail and I won’t discharge her until morning at the earliest,” she replied, barely restraining herself from shouting at the insolent attendant.

But we have a hospital at the prison. She can recover there. What if she gets worse during the transfer? No, I won’t let her go anywhere.

There was nothing to be done. The convoy relented to the doctors’ words, but warned that their colleagues would be coming to monitor the ward that same day. Barbara was forced to accept.

She was tired of arguing. But where could a woman run after giving birth? She couldn’t even stand up. However, Barbara also had a superior and the law.

That night, the woman entered the resident’s room and wearily collapsed into an armchair. All her thoughts revolved around the woman who had given birth that day. Mia—could she really be her daughter? But why was she in prison? What had she done? Where was her wealthy father? Or perhaps that scar was just a figment of her imagination.

She needed to check Mia’s foot again. Barbara reviewed the medical record. Type 3, blood positive.

Just like her. And the face. Now Barbara thought Mia looked a lot like her late mother.

After all, her daughter had inherited her grandmother’s green eyes and blonde hair. Could it be true? Barbara left the resident’s room and headed to Mia’s. There was no convoy yet, and the midwife opened the door quietly.

The young mother was asleep. Barbara approached cautiously, lifted the blanket, and looked at the foot. Yes, that same scar.

Mia opened her eyes. What happened? Is something wrong with my little girl? She tried to sit up, but winced in pain. “Hush, hush, darling,” Barbara whispered.

Everything’s fine with your baby. I just came to see how you were doing. I’m in so much pain, Mia said sadly.

That’s normal. It happens. Everything will pass.

The pain will subside. And there will only be joy in having a daughter, Barbara replied. She spoke softly, calmly, though her lips and hands trembled.

He gathered them together and sat in the chair beside her. “Mia, tell me, what happened to you? Why did you end up in the colony? Maybe I can help you. Or is there something you need to tell your family? I don’t have anyone,” Mia replied softly.

And why did I end up there? Nobody believed me. Why did you? Tell me, are they really going to take my daughter away from me? Didn’t they say we’d be together until she turned three? Saying this, Mia, overcoming the pain, sat up, propping herself up on one elbow. Biting her already bleeding lips, she stared at the doctor without blinking.

Barbara didn’t know what to say. In this case, everything was beyond her understanding. “I’ll try to find out everything,” he reassured her.

And tell me about yourself. I can see you’re not a criminal. You’re just in trouble.

That’s right, Mia cried. And I don’t know what to do. How can I go on living? And the little girl told her story.

Barbara learned that, as a child, Mia had lived abroad with her father and his wife. She barely remembered her mother. Her father said she had passed away.

Her stepmother constantly insulted her. Abroad, her father’s business began to collapse, forcing them to move back to their homeland. But even there, things weren’t going well.

A few years later, her father and stepmother died in an accident, and the bank foreclosed on all their property due to debt. At 15, Mia found herself in an orphanage. The three years leading up to graduation were a living hell.

Her classmates detested her, considering her a white crow. She endured constant cruel jokes and scoldings, with no friends to turn to. Finishing school became her salvation.

The girl believed all her life’s hardships were over, but it was only just beginning. Mia had a talent for drawing and dreamed of becoming a fashion designer. She enrolled in university and, fortunately, the state provided her, as an orphan, with a small apartment—her sanctuary of comfort and peace.

After school, she would come home and dream. Mia imagined becoming a designer with her own workshop. She would meet her prince, build a strong family, and have at least three children.

Mia longed for a large family, certain she would be a wonderful mother. She would be the most loving, the most tender, just like her own mother, whom she barely remembered. Only in dreams did she glimpse her mother’s blurred image and hear her forgotten voice, so melodious and gentle.

Her father never spoke of her, and no photographs survived. He claimed the photo album was lost during the move and that a virus corrupted the digital versions. “Her mother’s name was like yours, Barbara,” Mia told the doctor, sharing her memories.

He didn’t notice how Barbara paled and clenched her hands tighter as she continued her story. After graduating from college, she found a job in a sewing factory. She excelled at everything and received praise from her supervisor.

A promotion seemed possible, and she even considered continuing her studies, but fate took a sharp turn. Mia met Nigel, a handsome young man with an expensive car who showered her with gifts and flowers. Mia’s heart melted.

Her dreams seemed within reach, and she imagined her wedding. Nigel had influential parents: his father in the police force, his mother in the municipal administration. The orphan believed they would like her, even though she herself didn’t have a penny to her name.

After all, Nigel loved her. She hoped he would introduce her to his parents, but he constantly postponed it, citing his busy work schedule. Mia never understood his job, his travels, meetings, and vague communications.

Nigel laughed, saying it wasn’t time for her to know everything yet. Then the police raided her small apartment and found illegal substances. Mia was stunned.

Where had they come from? The truth about Nigel’s real activities was beginning to dawn on her. He had been using her apartment to store his belongings. He had escaped the consequences.

His influential family members protected him. They made it seem as if Mia was involved in the possession and sale of illegal substances. No one believed his claims of innocence.

They pressured her to reveal who her accomplices were, promising her a reduced sentence for her cooperation. But Mia really knew nothing. Nigel feigned complete innocence, even testifying for the prosecution.

Mia couldn’t believe her beloved had betrayed her like this. She had trusted him completely, but he had used and ruined her without hesitation or remorse. Her court-appointed lawyer made no attempt to defend her, and the judge sentenced her to five years in a general population colony.

Once in prison, Mia lost the will to live. Deceived, trampled on, slandered. Why had they done this to her? There were so many questions, but no answers.

Had it not been for the support of a fellow inmate from the beginning, who knows how things would have ended. Lena was serving time for robbery and had a young son who lived with his grandmother. Despite the circumstances, Lena remained optimistic and told Mia that she had to live, to live despite all her enemies.

“When you get out, you’ll settle the score,” he said. “Revenge is a dish best served cold.” Mia only nodded weakly in response.

Revenge? I couldn’t. I couldn’t. And I couldn’t bear being locked up for so many years.

Then came the unexpected news: Mia was pregnant. The prison doctor discovered it during her next medical exam and immediately asked if she planned to keep the baby.

“Yes, I want to,” Mia replied firmly. A ray of hope shone in her destiny. She was no longer alone in this vast world of lies and deceit.

Against all odds, she would hold on to raise her baby. Lena supported her friend’s decision. There was a possibility of parole.

Mia could live with the chick for up to three years, albeit in a different colony. They would have to be separated, but it was feasible. Plans were made to move Mia to another colony, but the paperwork was constantly delayed.

They were delayed until week 40, and on the rough road to the new prison, Mia went into labor. Luckily, they found this maternity ward along the way. “You’re my savior, Dr. Gibbs,” Mia whispered, finishing her story.

Thank you. Now I’m just scared. Are they really going to send me back to the old colony? What about my daughter? They promised not to separate us.

“What should I do?” “Mia, I’ll try to help you,” Barbara said, her voice trembling. “You poor thing, you’ve been through so much. Don’t worry too much.”

Everything will be alright. Now rest. He ran a trembling hand through Mia’s hair, stood up abruptly, and left before the girl could see his tears.

My God, how Barbara longed to embrace this child. To hold her, to protect her from the world. Yes, she was her daughter.

Now she knew for sure. But it was too soon to tell Mia. Her daughter had already been through so much, and surely more was to come.

The news of a mother who had just been resurrected could be misinterpreted. What if she thought Barbara had simply abandoned her? That confession wasn’t the priority at that moment. The crucial task was finding a way to help Mia.

Yes, she was innocent. Barbara was sure of it. But mere words wouldn’t do any good.

Then Barbara remembered that, about a year earlier, the wife of a prominent lawyer from the capital had given birth in her maternity hospital. They had been visiting relatives in the countryside when his wife went into labor in her eighth month. The lawyer was distraught, blaming himself for bringing his pregnant wife to such a remote location.

But Barbara managed to turn the baby herself. And he was born perfectly healthy. The baby had to stay in the hospital with his mother for a while, but everything turned out fine.

The lawyer had expressed his deep gratitude to Barbara, telling her he was indebted to her, and had given her his card just in case. The woman simply smiled, but kept the card. Now, Barbara was desperately searching for it.

Luckily, she found it at the bottom of her purse. “Hello, Mr. Flanagan!” Barbara began the conversation enthusiastically. The lawyer recognized her immediately and expressed his delight.

After speaking briefly with his son and wife, they addressed the matter at hand. Barbara explained Mia’s situation. “Yes, the case is difficult,” the lawyer agreed.

But I don’t understand why you’re so worried about this girl. I know you have a good heart, but maybe things aren’t exactly as she told you. This girl, as you say, is my daughter—Barbara said, with a lump in her throat.

She revealed everything: about the scar, her husband, her blood type, everything. “Are you sure?” the lawyer asked. “More than sure.”

“Then I’ll take the case,” he replied firmly. “Mr. Flanagan, I’ll pay you whatever you ask. Dr. Gibbs, please, you saved my son, and I’ll save yours.”

I will not accept any payment. This is what we will do. Tomorrow morning I will visit the investigative committee and begin working on this.

Stay calm. Even if Mia is discharged from the hospital tomorrow, she won’t be staying at the colony for long. Your task is to negotiate with the guardianship to prevent the baby from being sent to an orphanage immediately.

By law, we can keep a child in our hospital for a medical examination for a month. How wonderful! This conversation gave Barbara hope that everything would be all right.

Even the guards stationed outside Mia’s room since the night before didn’t worry her. Mr. Flanagan would take care of everything. The next morning, Mia was taken to the prison hospital.

In the hallway, Barbara whispered that a lawyer from the capital had taken her case. Be patient. Your ordeal will soon be over.

He squeezed the girl’s hand. “Stay away from the prisoner,” the guard barked.

Barbara stepped back without protest, offering Mia only a smile. “Dr. Gibbs, will you take care of Sue?” Mia cried desperately. “Sue?” Barbara paled.

I named my daughter that. Of course, she replied. Then she looked at the door behind which Mia had disappeared, escorted out.

Sue. That was Barbara’s mother’s name. Why had Mia chosen it? It wasn’t possible that she remembered her grandmother’s name.

A memory of blood? Barbara could find no other explanation. She went to the nursery where little Sue lay. The baby was awake, her blue eyes absorbed in the world, oblivious to the struggle surrounding her and her mother.

“My granddaughter, my granddaughter,” Barbara whispered. “She’s growing up, getting stronger. I’ll pray that everything goes well.”

She touched the baby’s soft cheek and felt a sweet warmth wash over her. As she left the daycare, Barbara wondered who to contact about caring for Sue. She ran into the department head, who had just returned from a business trip.

“What a special day yesterday was, Dr. Gibbs!” She smiled and continued, “It’s the first day a prisoner has given birth here.”

I’m glad she’s been transferred. I’ll arrange for her transfer to happen soon. There could be complications.

Please don’t rush the child. Barbara looked him straight in the eye. Dr. Johnson, if possible, I’d like to take the child myself.

“Barbara, what are you thinking!” exclaimed the department head. “This isn’t a kitten. It’s a baby that requires constant care.”

How will you manage? And what about work? I understand your maternal instinct, but why accept this? You’re not young anymore. And what will happen when the convict is released? Dr. Johnson, so many questions. Barbara smiled.

I’ve made my decision. If they grant me custody, I’ll take maternity leave. Barbara, I won’t allow it.

“That’s enough, Kenneth!” Barbara waved him off and left. She wasn’t going to explain anything to the chief physician, who had asked her out more than once during their marriage. No, he wasn’t mean or vindictive.

At that point, explanations were unnecessary. Barbara was going to the guardianship office, where the lead specialist was a woman she had helped give birth to. Barbara hoped to convince her to grant her temporary custody of Sue.

It wasn’t easy, but Barbara managed it. In a week, they gave her the baby. As promised, she took a vacation.

Her colleagues were shocked. No one understood why she, an excellent specialist dedicated to her work, suddenly left everything to care for the son of a convict. Several months passed.

Barbara cared for Sue, and the baby grew up healthy, looking more and more like her mother every day. Her eyes turned green, and blond curls formed on her head. The grandmother admired her granddaughter.

Yes, she was sure Mia was her daughter. No DNA tests were needed. Sue was an exact copy of little Mia, just as Barbara remembered her.

Throughout this time, she wrote to her daughter describing Sue’s development and daily life, but she never gave her any clues about who Mia really was. It wasn’t the right time. Mia’s case was reviewed.

The investigation was difficult and lengthy. After three months, the lawyer gathered all the evidence proving Nigel’s guilt in the crime for which Mia was serving time. Nigel was arrested, and Mia was finally acquitted and released from the colony.

It was early summer. He left the prison and breathed in the fresh air. My God, freedom! Soon he would see his daughter fall at Dr. Gibbs’ feet and thank her for everything.

The lawyer had told her who had hired him. Mia couldn’t believe it. How could a complete stranger defend her just like that? On the bus, traveling along the gravel road, Mia’s thoughts raced.

Yes, Dr. Gibbs helped her, but what was next? She needed to regain her rights. But would she get custody of her son back? She had a place to live, but no job. How would she work? How would she live? An allowance? But that still needed to be sorted out.

What if Dr. Gibbs didn’t want to leave Sue? Doubts and questions tormented the unhappy mother. Finally, the familiar town where she had given birth last spring appeared. She knew Dr. Gibbs’s address from the letters.

After asking passersby for directions, she continued walking. There was the house, nestled among the trees. Her daughter lived there now.

Mia timidly opened the door, walked along the path toward the house, and suddenly heard Barbara’s voice from the terrace. “My golden granddaughter, let’s go for a walk, get some fresh air, and listen to the birds singing.” Barbara brought the stroller out onto the porch and, seeing her visitor, gasped.

“Mia, you’re here. Why didn’t you tell me you were discharged today? I would have called a taxi. I didn’t want to bother you with such trivialities,” Mia replied tensely.

Here I am. You won’t throw me out, will you? Never. My girl, come in, come in.

“May I?” Mia approached the stroller. “Of course,” Barbara smiled. “Sue, your mother’s here.”

Mia leaned over the stroller and saw her baby girl for the first time since their long separation. She desperately wanted to hold her in her arms, hug her close, and kiss her tightly, but hesitantly, Mia touched the baby’s hand and suddenly burst into tears. “What are you doing, Mia?” Barbara asked, surprised.

I’m afraid to take it with me. The area itches, it’s dirty, and I can’t get it off. I can’t forget it, Mia whispered.

“My child,” Barbara exclaimed, wrapping her in her arms. “You are the purest in the world. Everything will be forgotten.”

Believe me. The important thing is that they’re together now. They stood there, embracing.

Mia cried and thanked Barbara for her help, for the lawyer, for everything. The woman hugged her tighter. The little girl watched them seriously from the stroller.

Finally, regaining her senses, they went inside. There was no more time for walks. After showering, Mia hugged her baby.

Sue, as if sensing her mother, smiled and hummed. Barbara watched them adoringly. Mother and daughter together.

That was happiness. But the more serious conversation was still to come. Mia hesitated for a while before finally asking when Barbara could hand Sue over to her.

I’ll have to go to the guardianship office, go to the town hall, and sort everything out there, she explained. I need to register at the clinic, get benefits, and pay off the utility bills. Maybe Sue can stay with you for a while.

Would you mind? Why do you have to go somewhere else? —Barbara asked—. Stay here. No, it’s not a good idea.

I can’t take advantage of your kindness forever. I know you’re used to Sue. I even heard you call her granddaughter, but…

“And she’s my granddaughter,” Barbara said softly. “I don’t understand.”

Mia, you’re my daughter. And Barbara began her story. Mia listened, confused, blinking and shaking her head.

You’re my mother. But why? Why is this happening? My father said you were dead. You abandoned me, didn’t you? Mia cried.

And you kept quiet all this time. That’s why I kept quiet. Because I knew this would be your first reaction, Barbara said, her voice trembling.

But I didn’t leave you. Your father deceived everyone. He separated us.

You didn’t even look for me. I was told you were abroad. I was sure you were doing well.

Suddenly I saw you at the hospital and recognized you by your scar. Daughter, I didn’t betray you. Mia looked at Barbara with tears in her eyes, then placed Sue in the crib and threw herself into her mother’s arms.

My mommy, my darling, and I thought you would only be with me in dreams forever. In dreams as in reality, I will always be with you. Barbara whispered, inhaling the scent of her daughter’s hair.

To you and my granddaughter, I am so sorry you have lived so many years without me and suffered so much. We will fix everything. We will start again.

You’ll be happy, I’m sure. We’ll be happy. Mia pulled away from her mother’s shoulder and looked into her eyes.

They both laughed through their tears, and from the cradle, smiling toothless, lay their happiness: a daughter and a granddaughter. Now three hearts would beat together.