The atmosphere in the room was palpably somber and oppressive.
The baby was sleeping soundly in her bassinet, with the maternity nurse watching over her.
Helen sat by the hospital bed, quietly wiping her tears. Clearly, they had already heard the news of Yvonne's death.
Dana, her eyes also red, looked at Bennett, at a loss for words.
The birth of a child should have been a joyous occasion, a celebration of new life. Instead, the mother had been lost, turning their joy into mourning.
Dana knew that no words of comfort would help right now. She could only let out a long sigh and say to Bennett, “Bennett, go see your child.”
“Okay.” Bennett nodded, walked to the bassinet, and lifted his daughter out.
The little one was a newborn, so she wasn't exactly a beauty yet. Bennett held the baby, looking down at her with a gentle, calm gaze.
“Let's call her Trinity,” he said suddenly.
“'Coralie'? Is that what you said? It’s a lovely name, like the coral,” Emma said, her selective hearing already deciding on the baby's future.
“No, it’s Trinity. With her, Yvonne and I are finally a real family,” Bennett said, rocking the baby.
As a new father, Bennett's hold was awkward and stiff. The baby, likely uncomfortable, suddenly started wailing.
The baby cried with her eyes squeezed shut, her little body a soft bundle, yet her cries were surprisingly loud.
Bennett was at a complete loss.
Seeing this, the maternity nurse quickly took the baby from him.
“What nonsense are you talking about? You can't just pick a random name for a child. Look, even the baby doesn't like it. Her name is Coralie, like the coral,” Emma insisted.


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