Claire kept begging, her voice cracking, but Renee turned to Finley. “It’s Claire. She says the baby’s in trouble and wants you to go back.”
Finley didn’t hesitate. “Ignore her. She’s lying again. Your hand’s more important. The doctor will be here soon—don’t worry.”
His words hit Claire like a death blow, tearing her heart apart. Her vision blurred with tears, and the world slipped away.
The paramedic tried to speak, but Finley hung up. When he called back, the phone was off.
“This is insane!” the paramedic muttered, gripping Claire’s hand. “Stay with me—we’ll do everything we can!”
But the pain said it all. She knew her baby was gone.
When Claire woke, the antiseptic stung her nose, burning her eyes. The sterile air felt suffocating.
The doctor approached with a sympathetic look. “You’re still young. You’ll have other children.”
Claire stared at the ceiling, her hand drifting to her now-flat stomach. Tears streamed silently.
No one else would ever understand. The Lloyds had pressured her to get pregnant, overjoyed when she finally did. But now? The baby was gone.
Their father killed them.
She doubted the Lloyd family would care about her anymore.
