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“Stop.” His voice is quiet, but commanding. He revs the engine and peels away from the curb. “Don’t talk about her right now. If you tell me what she did or where she is, I’ll leave you at the emergency room and hunt her down. I’ll kill her for this, Piper. So don’t tell me. Not yet.”
Noelle lied to me, but do I want her to die? It’s scary to admit that the answer might not be “no.” So I decide to stay quiet until I can see a doctor. Until I know whether my baby is safe or not.
Timofey soars through the sparse late night traffic. I lean back against the headrest and close my eyes.
I must fall asleep, because the next thing I know, Timofey is lifting me gently out of the passenger seat.
“I can walk,” I mumble. Even though walking is the very last thing I want to do right now. My legs feel like limp noodles.
“You’re exhausted. You haven’t slept properly since we got back from Mexico. Let me carry you.”
The emergency room is buzzing with people, but I’m taken straight back to a room. I suspect that has a lot to do with who Timofey is, but I don’t ask.
“Do whatever tests you have,” he tells the doctor as he lays me down on the exam table. “I want all of it. Everything.”
I’m weighed and poked and examined. Then a blood pressure cuff squeezes my left arm as the doctor settles the probe of a doppler over my stomach.
The cuff releases and the doctor checks the results. “Good blood pressure.”
I don’t care about that,I think.Is my baby okay?
She continues with the probe, pushing the wand into one side of my stomach and then the other. Her face is twisting into concentration as a devastating silence fills the room.
Then, finally, a rhythm breaks through. But before I can even get excited, the doctor shakes her head.
“That’s your heartbeat. Sometimes, when the baby is small, it’s hard to latch onto their rhythm. I’ll need to do an internal exam.”
It’s over. My baby is dead.
Hope sinks like a stone in me, but I nod and try a smile. “Okay.”
“More,” Timofey orders. “Every fucking test you have.”
I can’t look to see if Timofey is as hopeless as I am right now. Some small part of me is clinging to the fact that he’s ordering more tests. He must have hope if he still wants tests.
I undress and don a blue checkered hospital gown. A machine is rolled in. Jelly is smeared.
Again, silence seems to press in on me from every direction. I’ve never had a claustrophobia attack like this one before, but the yawning silence seems to take up physical space. It’s crushing down on me until I can’t move. Can’t breathe.
“There it is.” I look over and the doctor is smiling now. She points to the screen and the small white orb in the center. “I see a little flicker. Let’s zoom in on that and give a listen.”
The screen shifts closer until the little orb is the size of a golf ball. I can see the flickering movement in the center, but I can’t inhale until the sound fills the room. A constantwhoosh, whooshof life.
“Fuck yes,” Timofey says softly. Then he sweeps forward and presses a kiss to my forehead. “The baby is fine. Perfect.”
Tears stream down my cheeks, and suddenly, I can’t breathe for the best reason in the world.
“I’ll leave you two alone for a minute,” the doctor says.
She skirts out of the room, and Timofey squeezes my hand. “This is good news.”
“I know. I’m happy. I’m…” I shake my head, unable to find the right word to encompass exactly what I’m feeling. “I’m so sorry.”
“For running off?”
“Yeah. And for not listening to you in the first place. You were right about Noelle.” I squeeze my eyes closed. “I was so stupid. So fucking… I can’t believe I didn’t see it.”
Timofey smooths my hair away from my face. His touch is surprisingly gentle. “It’s okay.”
