I nodded. My throat burned as if scraped raw by sandpaper.
The doctor sighed, speaking as gently as he could.
“Julia, when you were brought in, you were experiencing massive bleeding.”
My heart clenched, but I forced myself to ask, “So…?”
He paused for a moment before answering.
“The baby is gone.”
My breathing caught in my chest, unable to move.
“The baby…?”
I repeated softly, as though confirming something I had never imagined.
The doctor continued, “You were three weeks pregnant. It was too early to detect. But your injuries were severe, and the embryo couldn’t continue developing. We have already completed the procedure.”
My fingertips slowly turned cold.
So I had been pregnant.
In the middle of their blows, their insults, all the despair… I had been carrying a tiny life.
And now he was gone.
Because of their push.
Because of their violence.
Because of their cruelty.
Seeing me silent, the doctor added in a low voice, “Your injuries were caused by assault. We have reported it according to protocol. Once your condition stabilizes, you’ll need to give a statement.”
I closed my eyes. My chest felt as if it had been torn apart.