I thought about it, replaying the last eight months in my head. Every time I mentioned making an appointment, Daniel had a perfectly logical explanation for why I shouldn’t go. Doctors were too expensive. The clinic waiting lists were miles long. I was probably just stressed from keeping up with the house.
Once, when I was in tears complaining that my stomach felt unusually heavy and tight, he brought me a heating pad, kissed my forehead, and told me to stop worrying my pretty head over nothing.
“He said I didn’t need a doctor,” I finally admitted, my voice barely a whisper.
Dr. Miller exchanged a swift, loaded glance with the nurse standing beside the examination table. It was quick—barely a second long—but I noticed it. A jolt of panic hit my chest.
“Emily,” she said, her tone shifting to something much more urgent. “I’d like to arrange an ultrasound for you right now, today.”
“Is something wrong?” I asked, my heart beginning to race.
“I don’t know yet. But I do not want you to wait another day to find out.”
The nurse gently helped me lie back on the crinkling paper of the examination table. Cold gel was squeezed across my swollen abdomen, making me shiver. I turned my head to watch the glowing monitor as Dr. Miller pressed the ultrasound probe against my skin, moving it slowly.
A glowing ultrasound monitor in a dark room showing a shadowy mass
The screen revealed a secret I didn’t know my own body was keeping.
At first, the room was completely silent. She said nothing as the grey static shifted on the screen.
