His Betrayal, My Unborn Child

o the boiling panic in my chest. My sister, Jessica, was kneeling on the flo

ase. I' m be

s a raw, des

, maybe a week, without a new kidney. Please,

Lily. Eight years old, with a smile that could light up the darkest roo

Jess

et, but it was a

not put her through major surgery, I

hrieked, grabbing at the hem of my jeans. "How

looked up into the face of my husband, Mark Davis. His expr

enough,

, the same tone he used to close bil

uncomfortable. We' ve

ouldered men in suits standing behin

r out of

k, please

her to her feet and escorted her away. I leaned into Mark, a wave of

my hair. "I' ll never let anyone hurt you

m. I trusted

day, Lily

he next she was gone. The gate was closed, the security system s

d me. It was a physical force, a mo

she' s gone! L

tech company' s security division on the case, hired the best private investigators, and put up a multi-million-dollar

out flyers with Lily' s smiling face until her image was burned onto the inside of my eye

o eat, he coordinated the search with a relentless, focused energy. He

the ca

te on the outskirts of the city, h

avy. I remember Mark holding the phone, his face draining of a

rgue. I refused t

l of life and light. This small, broken form, covered in dirt and grime, was unrecognizable. The

make. It was the sound of a soul being ripped in two. My world d

f pain. Mark was a constant presence, his own grief a palpable thing. He held my hand at the funeral, his voi

n my endless night. He would hold me for ho

s, Sarah. I' ll get just

my grief had dulled to a constant, thr

air as I lay listlessly in our bed. "It won' t replace her, nothing could. But

y. A new reason to live. In my shattered state, his words were a lifeline. I

ogether, planning for a new pregnancy, a new future. I saw it as a way to