"Eliana—how long have you been standing there?"
"I just got here," I said flat and empty.
He reached for me, feigning tenderness. "Honey, you’ve been crying…"
I recoiled like his touch was fire. "We lost our child, Darren. Of course I’ve been crying."
His tone softened, rehearsed. "We’ll have another, I promise—"
"Another?" My laugh was bitter. "Easy for you to say."
His jaw ticked, but he said nothing. Coward.
My gaze shifted to Sally, rocking her prize in her arms, her lips curving in mock sympathy.
"Eliana, aren’t you happy for me? Oh, of course not. You’re grieving. My condolences."
"I don’t need your sympathy," I spat.
Janine rolled her eyes. "Stop being dramatic. You were overdue anyway. Be grateful you didn’t birth a cripple."
Something inside me shattered so loud it drowned out the monitor beeping behind me.
Before I knew it, my hand was at her throat. Squeezing.
Her eyes bulged in shock as she grabbed my hand, sputtering. “E–Eliana!”
Darren’s voice cracked through the haze. “Enough! Are you insane? Let her go!”
But I didn’t. Not at first. For one satisfying second, I watched Janine’s face redden under my fingers. Then I shoved her back, releasing her with a disgusted snarl.