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Chapter 1 “Mrs. Hoffman? Mrs. Hoffman?” It took me a moment to react. The receptionist had already called my name twice. Three years of marriage, and I still wasn’t used to it. A nurse appeared in the doorway. “Dr. Ramirez will see you shortly, Mrs. Hoffman.” I nodded, forcing a polite smile. “Thank you.” But inside, the thought curled sharp as glass: maybe I just wasn’t used to being the woman who couldn’t give her husband a child. - The waiting room at North Crest Hospital was a vacuum—airless, colorless, draining warmth from my bones. Fluorescent lights hummed louder than the muted voices around me. I didn’t need a doctor to tell me what I already knew. Another follow-up. Another gentle reminder that my body had failed again. And then—an accident of timing. A consultation door down the hall hadn’t been shut all the way. Just a sliver of space. Enough for voices to slip through. “The timing has to be perfect,” a man said, calm, deliberate. My breath caught. I knew that voice. Michael. My husband. Why was he here? “And