“Mrs. Carter,” he murmured, his voice drained of its clinical detachment. “We need to speak.”
Hailey began to tremble, a fine, uncontrollable vibration that shook the paper beneath her.
Dr. Adler took a tentative step closer, lowering his voice to a grave murmur. “I have reviewed the imaging. The ultrasound shows… there is something inside her.”
For a singular, terrifying second, the oxygen vanished from the room.
“Inside her?” I stammered, my brain struggling to process the syllables. “A tumor? What do you mean?”
He hesitated. It was a fractional pause, but it was a silence so heavy, so laden with horrific implications, that it screamed louder than any diagnosis. The floor beneath my feet seemed to liquefy. A cold sweat broke out across the nape of my neck.
What is he not telling me?
Chapter 3: The Unthinkable Truth
“We need to discuss these results privately,” Dr. Adler said, his eyes darting briefly to my trembling daughter before settling back on me with profound pity. “But I need you to brace yourself, Mrs. Carter.”
The air pressure in the room plummeted. Hailey let out a small, choked gasp, curling her knees tight against her chest.
I don’t recall the mechanics of remaining upright. I only remember a sensation of profound detachment, as if I were floating above my own body, watching the scene unfold from a great distance. Dr. Adler gently guided me just outside the door, pulling it shut with a soft click that sounded like a judge’s gavel.
“Your daughter is pregnant,” he stated, the words falling like lead weights. “She is approximately twelve weeks along.”
