The Heir to the Citadel

Eight months later, the high-summer heat of August settled over Boston in a golden, shimmering haze. Inside the private, state-of-the-art maternity suite at Massachusetts General Hospital overlooking the Charles River, the rhythmic, electronic chime of the fetal monitor filled the room with steady reassurance. Maya lay propped against the elevated pillows of the birthing bed, her auburn hair damp with perspiration, curling around her flushed face. Her hazel eyes were…