The guards opened the door and stepped aside to let him enter. "You have thirty minutes," they reminded him.

Sergio did not need reminding. The door swung shut behind him.

The room was small, white walls and plain furniture. There was a brown-haired nurse present, a different one from the last time. Sergio wondered how often they changed. He'd had to change handlers often in his youth, to prevent deep emotional connections from forming.

The woman was bent over the crib in the corner, but when he walked in, she straightened up. In her arms was—

It was a miracle his legs managed to take him all the way across the room. There was a rocking chair next to the crib, and he sank into it as the nurse pressed the bundle of blankets into his arms.

The nurse was saying something, but Sergio did not hear. The entire scope of his focus was on the tiny person he was holding. But not as small as he'd estimated, Sergio noted. Not as small as he'd remembered. His daughter had grown noticeably since he'd last seen her.

The baby opened her eyes, and Sergio's heart seized. He drank in every aspect of her features: Her nose and the point of her chin were his, he realized, but the round cheeks and brown eyes came from Anana.

Sergio leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead, cheeks, her tiny hands, and the crown of her head with a tuft of dark hair. "I love you, I love you, I love you." His words were barely above a whisper.

His daughter was so heavy and warm, her skin so soft. She stared up at him and made babbling noises, flailing her hands wildly. Sergio knew she wasn't hungry or in need of changing; he wasn't allowed to be here during any of that. They didn't want him to have any part in caring for her. He wasn't even allowed to name her. He might have anyway, just in his head, but they didn't let him see Anana at all, and he didn't want to pick a name without her.

Dimly, he heard the buzz of the timer, and the nurse stood in front of him, holding out her arms.

"No," he murmured. "No, no, no, please, no, just a little longer, please—"

She paid him no mind, putting one arm under his and one arm over, and tugged the baby out of the cradle of his arms. He didn't fight, couldn't bring himself to do anything that might injure the little girl.

The nurse turned away, her back to him. Sergio stood up, forced his legs to move.

All too soon, he was at the door, and it slid open at barely a touch.

Don't look back, don't look back, he reminded himself. Don't give them the satisfaction.

The guards outside were the same as before. As the door slid shut behind Sergio, they addressed him.

"The board wants to see you," one of them said.

Sergio stared at the wall in front of him, and gave no acknowledgement that he'd heard their words.

The same guard smirked at him. "Need a minute?" he asked mockingly.

Taking a deep breath, Sergio shook his head and refocused on them. He swallowed, made his face into a perfect mask, and nodded.

The guards led him down the hall, away from the thick metal door and his daughter behind it.