Before Our Dawn| ongoing

thirty-eight

Chapitre trente-huit
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"Isra, you need some rest. I can watch over Klaus for a while."

"I can't rest," she insisted, her gaze never wavering from Klaus as Hans tried to cradle him in his arms.

"You've been awake all day. You can't go on like this," he urged, gently taking the baby from her.

"I'm fine. I want to hold him," she said, her arms feeling emptier without her baby.

Klaus opened his eyes, face scrunching into a frown before his soft whimpers suffused the bedroom. "Shhh, it's okay, little one."

Although Hans was his father, Isra was reluctant to allow anybody else to touch her son. Her arms felt empty without Klaus' body squished between them. There was a pervasive fear that if he wasn't with her at all times, he might not be safe.

Hans settled into the chaise lounge with him, rocking him gently. The baby fussed for a moment before quieting down in his father's arms.

"Hans, can I please have him back?"

He observed the jittery anxiety in her movements, a tangible manifestation of her overwhelming concern for Klaus. Standing up, Hans gently placed the sleeping baby in the crib, ensuring he was comfortable. Slowly, he approached the bed, and Isra's eyes followed every move he made.

"What's wrong, darling?"

She let out a sigh, the tension in her shoulders slowly releasing. "I'm worried."

"About what?"

"Klaus. I don't want him to... I don't want to lose him like I lost Sophie and... and if can just hold him, I'll feel better."

"I know you're scared, Isra. I am too. But we're doing everything we can to keep him safe. Look," he said, nodding toward the crib where Klaus lay peacefully. "He's sleeping soundly. We're here for him, and we'll protect him together."

Isra's gaze shifted to the crib, her eyes lingering on their child's serene form. "I know. I still fear the worst."

"Don't be afraid." He gently grasped her hand, intertwining their fingers together. He looked down at her left hand, spying the wedding ring belonging to her late husband that she still wore. "I've made my commitment to you. To you and Klaus. You can trust me."

"I do trust you, Hans."

Hans touched her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles tenderly. "Good. I'm glad."

The aftermath of childbirth lingered since it had only been six days. Isra found herself on the path to recovery difficult in a world stripped bare by scarcity. The rationing of supplies was a constant challenge, and every morsel of food became a precious offering. Each day, Hans would venture into the market, bartering and bargaining to secure a little more for their growing family.

Dr. Muller's periodic check-ins provided a semblance of medical support. The doctor's inquiries were veiled in the pretext of casual conversation, but Hans sensed a genuine concern beneath. On those visits, he would share updates about Isra's well-being, recounting the small victories and expressing gratitude for the medications that eased her recovery.

Yet their journey was far from over and this war wasn't finished yet. She knew that Hans was plotting his next move, but she had no clue as to what it might be. She simply didn't want him putting himself in danger, not for her or Klaus-she couldn't ask that of him. It didn't matter if they suffered for a while longer so long as Hans was safe. She didn't want a repeat of the past, of losing her husband and Sophie.