"Congratulations, Mrs. Rowe. You're expecting. You've always been in excellent health, but during this time, you'll need to take extra care. Avoid stress, keep your emotions steady. No major upsets."
Instinctively, my hand drifted to my abdomen. A tiny life was growing there.
For five years, I had hoped, countless times, for a child with Samuel. A family of our own. But this baby had chosen the worst possible moment to arrive.
My phone buzzed on the pillow beside me. A message from Samuel. Two cold sentences:
"The doctor said you fainted from emotional distress. Nothing serious. Get some rest."
"When you've come to your senses, apologize to Selene, and I'll send someone to bring you back to The Castle in Sicily."
I stared at the words on the screen. The irony was almost poetic. I let out a hollow laugh, powered off the phone, and snuffed out the last ember of hope I'd been foolish enough to keep burning.
Before long, the physician pushed open the door again. Her expression was strained, slightly unnatural. "Mrs. Rowe, the Godfather has arranged an additional examination. He says it's for the sake of you and the baby. Please follow me."