A Homeless Pregnant Woman Was Right Outside the Maternity Ward Doors

Many years ago, on a cold winters night, a homeless pregnant woman appeared just outside the doors of the maternity ward at St. Marys Hospital in London. No one knew who she was or where she came from until Dr. Edward Whitmore locked eyes with herand everything changed.
I was on duty that evening when she arrived. Though arrived isnt quite the wordshe simply appeared, as if from nowhere. Heavy with child, her face pale, her eyes filled with a quiet, desperate plea for help.
She sat on a bench in the corridor, clutching her swollen belly, barely moving. She had no identification, no belongings, not even a name we could record.
The nurses murmured among themselves: What should we do with her? Where should she go? The head midwife merely waved a hand dismissively, as if there were no time to spare for such matters.
I was about to approach her when Dr. Whitmore entered the corridor. He stopped dead at the sight of her. His gaze grew heavy, distantas if he were not seeing a patient, but a ghost from another time.
Who is this woman? he asked quietly, but no one answered.
He knelt before her, looking directly into her eyes. Something shifted in his expressionfirst confusion, then recognition.
Assign her a room at once, he said sharply, without so much as glancing at us.
I noticed his eyes linger on the tarnished silver locket around her neck. Then, under his breath, he whispered, Good heavens can it truly be her?
Without another word, he guided her to an empty room, the door closing firmly behind them.
We exchanged uneasy glancesId never seen him like this. Always so composed, so controlled, yet now there was urgency in his movements, worry in his eyes.
A few minutes later, I entered with an IV drip. She sat on the bed while he spoke to her in hushed tones. I caught only fragments: If only Id been there forgive me
She turned away, her fingers tightening around the locket.
As I adjusted the drip, the room felt thick with unspoken tension. The woman stayed silent, but there was something hauntingly familiar in her gazesomething I couldnt place.
You know things will be different now, the doctor said softly, his voice not stern but aching with regret.
She nodded, still refusing to meet his eyes.
Doctor, I ventured, who is she?
He looked at me as if weighing each word. Then, with a deep sigh, he said, Shes my sister.
I nearly dropped the IV. But you told us you had no family.
I had to, he interrupted. We lost touch over a decade ago. She vanished.
I asked no more. But as I left the room, I understoodtheir story was far more tangled than a mere reunion after years apart.

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A Homeless Pregnant Woman Was Right Outside the Maternity Ward Doors