The encounter occurred abruptly, as is often the case with unwelcome surprises, and it happened at an inconvenient moment. Moe shifted in his chair, deftly removing the diaper elastic band in a motion that had become second nature over the past few days and looked inside.

“Like clockwork,” Moe smiled, gazing at Miny with infinite tenderness as the baby slept, his plump lips slightly parted, sniffling softly. "I wish your father would shit his pants like that, honey," he pursed his lips, as if Miny could understand, and glanced out at the darkening street.

Einer, who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, was staring directly at him, as always, with legs spread, hands in his linen pants pockets, unwavering like a rock, his entire demeanor reflecting his unwillingness to yield. Annoyed, Moe gave him the middle finger, desperately unable to understand what Einer wanted - if he thought that Moe Hayes, who turned out to be Moe Doe, would agree to participate in the revived investigation, then Einer was a complete idiot. Even a child would have understood that, given the difficult situation, Moe would sooner take his own life than cooperate.

Einar grinned happily as if Moe wasn't flipping him off but blew a kiss. He waved, and his men, stationed a short distance away, quickly scrambled to retrieve car seats from the small van beside them, arranging them neatly in front of Einar. Moe raised his eyebrows in surprise, observing the array of 0+ car seats being laid out, and his jaw dropped in bewilderment. What kind of spectacle was this? If Einar believed that Moe, who had thought of everything, had overlooked the car seat, he was an idiot.

Unwilling to participate in the gesture exchange, Moe pulled the cord of the drape, which swiftly covered the window, concealing Einar and his absurd offerings. A surge of bitterness welled up within him, causing him to grit his teeth in indignation. What a nerve this guy had, putting on a good mine at a bad game.

He rose cautiously, taking care not to disturb Miny's sleep, and moved slowly towards the bed, realizing that their stay here couldn't last indefinitely; eventually, they would need to leave. Slipping away unnoticed wasn't an option – the administration would likely alert Einar once Moe requested to be discharged. It was also time to arrange for Miny's paperwork, babyproof the apartment, and register the housekeeper at the condo’s management office.

Miny, placed on the bed with the precision of a sapper, immediately softly grumbled and opened his eyes - he refused to sleep without body contact. Moe pressed the call button, opting to leave the task of washing his sweet baby to the nurse. He promptly entered the room, wearing an attentive facial expression – Moe suspected Einar's influence behind the service level. He dryly remarked, “Would you mind bathing Miny and holding him while I take a shower?”

“Certainly,” the nurse cradled Miny and placed him on the changing table, but Miny kicked his legs in protest, sensing the change, and promptly unleashed his powerful vocal cords, emitting a high-pitched roar.

“I bet he'll become an opera singer,” Moe chuckled, grabbing a fresh towel and robe before heading into the bathroom.

There, he unwrapped the long, thick cloth that had tightly bound his midsection from his chest down to his thighs, feeling the stretched muscles ache uncomfortably. Standing before the mirror, he examined the sagging, empty muscle pouch - it did not look great. Moe decided that once he was discharged, he would start running to tighten those muscles as quickly as possible. Overall, he seemed to have fared well - pale stretch marks on his skin, no extra pounds, though his stomach understandably retained the memory of recent weight. Listening carefully, he noted that the crying had subsided, indicating that the nurse, after giving him a quick bath, had started soothing Miny, a gesture the baby clearly appreciated. With a sigh of relief, Moe stepped into the shower stall.

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His desire for cleanliness didn't align with the recommendations of the urut specialist, a practitioner of the local traditional healing method for laboring women. However, the idea of refraining from washing for a month after childbirth, a local custom aimed at preventing any disruption in the circulation of qi energy, was immediately dismissed by Moe. He prioritized dealing with the discomfort caused by residual discharge and the sticky sensation over concerns about the balance of qi energy.

Moe indulged in a lengthy shower, relishing the sensation as he vigorously scrubbed his skin. He emerged feeling blissfully warm and drowsy. Following the routine, he removed his gown and reclined, offering one nipple to Miny, who responded with a contented rumble. The masseur took care of the rest of his body, employing a specialized technique to lift the uterus into place and restore proper qi circulation. After nursing and lounging until he felt drowsy, Moe rose, encasing his torso in the obligatory wrapping that provided a comforting corset-like sensation, the sagging stomach did not feel alien any more as it was pushed back in place. He settled back down, offering Miny the other nipple, and the baby lazily alternated between sucking and brief pauses, leaving Moe happily entranced without a thought of Einar in that moment.

As he drifted into slumber, cradling the peacefully sleeping Miny after a satisfying dinner, Moe reveled in the thought that life couldn't get any more wonderful. He now had a family.

The next morning, right after breakfast, Moe declared his intention to leave the clinic. He completed the necessary paperwork, obtained his immunization book and birth certificate from the clinic, and tensed when he heard, “The bill has already been paid, Mr. Hayes.”

“I didn't authorize payments on my behalf,” Moe exclaimed, abruptly lifting himself up while feeding Miny, causing the baby to squeal furiously after losing his nipple.

“The clinic owner made the decision, sir,” the nurse stammered as he stumbled towards the exit, clearly intimidated by Moe's piercing gaze, which promised all sorts of consequences. “Dr. Lee will be with you shortly, and I'll inform the receptionist about payment matters,” he muttered while shuffling his rubber shoes along the corridor.

“Damn you, Einer!” Moe, who had returned the nipple to the disgruntled Miny, reclined again. The frustration that had been building up over these days was on the verge of boiling over, and Moe took measured breaths, attempting to calm himself - no need to burden Miny with nonsense.

Dr. Lee concluded his final recommendations, peering shrewdly through his glasses. When Moe stood up, expressing his heartfelt gratitude and transferring the drowsy Miny into the Doona wheeled car seat he had ordered online directly to the clinic after the birth, Dr. Lee made a vague remark.

“Fighting the powers that be is pointless, Mr. Hayes.”

“Huh?” Moe, struggling with the tight clasps and blowing away the stray strands from his face, finally managed to undo them. He turned back, looking at Dr. Lee with a puzzled expression. After contemplating the words, he dryly responded, "We'll see about that, Dr. Lee."

“Didn't mean to offend you, Mr. Hayes. Good luck.” Dr. Lee stood up, extending a broad, plump palm.

“Thank you, Doctor, I'll need it,” Moe slung the bag over his shoulder and maneuvered the wheeled car seat, grimacing as he navigated toward the exit, aware that the pesky asshole was likely waiting for him.