The doctor spoke seriously, "The situation is very dangerous. The child may not survive, but we can try-"
"There’s no need," Amelia whispered, closing her eyes.
Tears slipped silently down her face. On the cold operating table, the bright surgical light burned her eyes. The instruments made sharp, mechanical sounds and every movement felt like a piece of her flesh was being cut away.
Amelia bit her lip until she tasted blood, refusing to make a sound. She refused to cry. She refused to feel.
A week later, sunlight streamed through the gauze curtains of the nursing center, casting a warm glow on the bed.
Amelia put down her phone. The screen still showed Victoria’s latest vlog. In the video, Damien was tying Victoria’s shoelaces, his attention fully on her. They laughed together, looking so happy.
Expressionless, Amelia locked the screen as if she hadn't seen anything.
Suddenly, the door swung open.
"Amelia!" Damien rushed in, his face filled with panic.
"How are you-"
As he got closer, he noticed how pale she was. Her lips were almost colorless.
His brows furrowed as he asked, "Is it your irregular periods again? Why didn’t you tell me?"