He knows

Ophelia’s POV

I strolled through the hospital hallway with the bouquet of dahlias mixed with daisies clutched in my hand.

"Room thirty one," I mumbled to myself as I gazed at the room number slates which were firmly glued to the doors.

Soon, I got to room thirty one. I knocked gently and waited quietly for the inhabitant to usher me in.

"Is that Miss Ophelia? Please come in," Isabelle's voice came out in the form of a weak whisper and I smiled to myself before I pushed the door open, and quietly slammed it shut.

I took in the sight of Isabelle lying on the bed, clutching her newborn in the small bundle, and nostalgia swept over me.

I recalled the day I gave birth to Jeremy. No one was beside me while I pushed him out of me, nobody came to drop flowers and congratulate me at the hospital.

I cried so hard for some weeks after I got home. It was after then that I decided to make friends with Daphne.

Isabelle's situation was also similar to mine. But she was raped by her boyfriend, and