A Wife's Rage, A Husband's Fall

aw, my voice a

anaged to say. "

to one of practiced sorrow.

I' m so

n the air, heavy

nued, his gaze steady and convincing. "The labor was too h

f in his voice. He sounded like a heartbroken father, a devastated hu

he movement sent a fresh wave of pain t

and medication. A sharp, distinct sound from the

ce gaining a desperate edge. "I h

go of my hand and stood up, his

tion," he said, his tone turning condescending. "You were

s crazy. But the memory was too clear, too real. It w

elf up, ignoring the searing pain in my abdomen, and grabb

. "Don' t lie to me. I need to know the trut

ing. I was hoping for a sliver of humani

k of disgust. The mask of the grieving husband

. "It' s over. The baby is gone. Cry

suit jacket, his exp

nd Emma. They are waiting for you at home. Pull yourself toge

ving me alone with the crushing certainty that my baby was alive an