It’s on me.
Chucking my phone on the passenger’s seat, I whip the car around, pause for a heartbeat, and focus.
It won’t help to kill myself or someone else.
Won’t help to stay here and indulge in my rage and self-pity.
One more breath.
One more?—
You’re what’s the matter with me.
One more moment to sit in all the fucking regrets.
Then I pull out of the parking lot.
I drive over to the hospital.
I meet Aiden and Luna in the waiting room.
And we wait for news.
And wait.
And fucking wait.
Forty-Five
Harper
I exhale and stare up at the ceiling, trying to be calm.
But the baby isn’t moving.
I prod at my belly, trying to encourage her to move, but…
Nothing.
And the longer I sit back here by myself without her moving, the harder it is to stay calm.
The ambulance ride was a blur, but I remember voices asking me questions, the sharp stick of an IV.
By the time I was wheeled back to this room, I was less hazy.
Because they were pumping me full of fluids.
Because I forgot to eat for almost twenty-four hours and also hadn’t drunk enough water and now…like Dr. Harlow warned, I’m in the hospital.
And my baby isn’t moving.
Because I passed out and hit my head and?—
My chest seizes.
My baby isn’t moving.
The curtain pulls back with a little whoosh, the nurse who checked on me a few minutes ago back with the doctor. “How are we doing in here?” she asks.
