Day turned into night.
The atmosphere inside the grand house grew increasingly quiet.
After spending the afternoon caring for Samudra in the family room until the baby calmed down, Mila returned to her bedroom to rest.
But sleep never came to Mila.
The image of Anton's face as he cruelly divorced her, Mrs. Ratih's mocking laughter,
and the bitter memory of red earth covering her baby's body continued to play through her mind like a film reel that couldn't be stopped.
Mila stepped onto her bedroom balcony, letting the night wind sweep across her tear-streaked face.
In the room next door, Marcel was experiencing a situation not much different from hers.
The man sat on the edge of his large bed, holding a silver-engraved photo frame.
Inside the photograph was a sweet-faced woman with a captivating smile—Carren.
“Carren... why did you leave me so soon?” Marcel murmured hoarsely.
His eyes were red as he held back the overwhelming weight of his longing.
“Our child... is growing up without you. And today, Dad and Mom brought a stranger into this house. I hate this situation, Carren. I hate feeling so helpless...”
Marcel squeezed his eyes shut, allowing the silence of the night to swallow his deepest sorrow.
The clock showed two in the morning.
The quiet of the night was suddenly shattered by a piercing cry coming from the end of the hallway.
Mila, who had only been lightly dozing, jolted awake.
Ignoring her exhaustion, a mother's instinct urged her body to rise from the bed at once.
The crying belonged to Baby Samudra, and he sounded terribly thirsty and in pain.
Moving quickly but quietly, Mila left her room and made her way down the dim hallway toward the nursery.
When she pushed open the unlocked nursery door, she saw Baby Samudra lying in a wooden crib, squirming restlessly, his face bright red from his hysterical crying.
His tiny hands reached out helplessly into the air.
Mila looked around the room.
The baby's nanny, who was supposed to be watching Samudra tonight, was nowhere to be found.
The room was empty, except for the tiny baby who was hungry and thirsty.
“Sweetheart... shh, it's okay, my child,” Mila whispered, panicked and full of pity.
She immediately lifted Samudra from the crib and held him warmly against her chest.
Mila felt Samudra's forehead. He was still slightly warm.
The baby kept mouthing toward Mila's breast, an instinctive gesture from a baby suffering from intense hunger.
Mila quickly searched for a bottle of formula, which was usually kept ready on the special feeding table.
But there wasn't a single bottle prepared.
The formula powder was gone, and the bottles that remained were dirty and hadn't been washed.
Samudra's cries grew even more piercing, showing how desperately hungry he was.
Mila stood frozen, overwhelmed by confusion and an agonizing dilemma.
As a woman who had given birth only one month ago and had suddenly lost her baby, she still had an abundant supply of breast milk.
Her breasts even felt tight and sore because she hadn't nursed since that morning.
Seeing Samudra continue crying hysterically until he was gasping for breath, Mila couldn't bear it any longer.
Her pity and maternal instinct overcame all her hesitation.
Mila sat in a rocking chair in the corner of the nursery.
With slightly trembling fingers, she pulled down the top of her clothing and loosened the covering over her chest.
Slowly, she guided Baby Samudra's head toward her breast.
As soon as the baby's sense of smell caught the scent of breast milk, Samudra instinctively latched on and began nursing greedily.
Gulp... gulp... gulp...
Samudra's soft swallowing sounds echoed through the quiet room.
The hysterical crying that had filled the room abruptly stopped, replaced by the tiny baby's relieved breaths.
Mila squeezed her eyes shut, absorbing the warm sensation spreading through her chest.
An unbearable wave of emotion overflowed in her heart.
Nursing that baby felt as though it were healing part of the wound left by the loss of her own son.
“Drink plenty, Samudra... Good boy...” Mila whispered softly as she gently stroked the fine hair on the baby's head.
Her tears trickled down, landing on Samudra's cheek.
However, in the midst of that intimate and emotional moment, the nursery door, which had been slightly ajar, was suddenly pushed wide open.
Hurried footsteps entered the room.
Marcel, who had also woken after hearing his son's cries from his room, walked in with a tense expression.
The man was wearing nothing but black slacks and a thin plain T-shirt.
But Marcel's steps came to a complete stop in the doorway.
His eyes widened as he stared in utter shock at the scene before him.
In the dim corner of the room, beneath the faint glow of the night-light, Mila sat with his son in her lap.
The top of the woman's clothing was open, and Baby Samudra was calmly nursing at Mila's breast.
Shock, anger, and stunned disbelief mixed together in Marcel's mind, suddenly clogging his throat.
“Mr. Marcel?!” Mila cried out in shock when she realized the man was there.
Panicking, her palms trembling violently, Mila quickly pulled the baby's blanket up to cover her chest and Samudra's body, trying to protect her privacy.
But she didn't unlatch Samudra, knowing the baby would start crying hysterically again if she stopped him abruptly.
Mila's face turned scarlet with embarrassment and fear.
Marcel stepped closer, his eyes blazing.
His face hardened, his chest rising and falling as he fought to contain the emotions that had suddenly erupted.
“What... what are you doing?” Marcel's baritone voice trembled faintly, thick with anger and disbelief.
“You're breastfeeding my son?! How dare you do that to my child without permission?!”
Mila lowered her head deeply, her body trembling violently under the pressure of the man before her.
“I'm... I'm sorry, Mr. Marcel... I'm sorry...” Mila spoke in a voice nearly extinguished by fear.
“Samudra was crying so hysterically... He was terribly hungry, and I couldn't find any formula ready on the table. I couldn't bear watching him cry until he could barely breathe...”
“And then you decided to just give him your breast milk?!” Marcel cut her off, his voice rising as a frighteningly sharp glint flashed in his eyes.
“Who do you think you are, huh?! You're just a stranger being sheltered in this house! Where's the nanny?!”
“I... I don't know, Mr. Marcel,” Mila answered faintly, tears now truly streaming down her cheeks.
“When I came in, the nanny was already gone from the room...”
“Damn it!” Marcel cursed, condemning the negligence of the worker in his house.
Marcel was still breathing hard.