Chapter 4

The air in the ICU smelled of bleach and sterile cold.

I opened my eyes. The pain in my lower abdomen was a dull, tearing pulse. Instinctively, my hand moved down.

Empty.

The warmth was gone. My fingers twitched, pulling at the white sheet until my knuckles turned translucent. I didn't let myself cry. I took one shallow breath, then another, forcing the dizziness down.

The door clicked open. Joshua walked in holding a paper coffee cup, his face carved into a mask of sudden grief.

"Erica, darling," he whispered, stepping close to the bed. He reached for my hand,…