ron clamps. She tried to struggle, to dig her heels into the floor, but she was weak, her body wracked with

gan to

her legs, leaving a dark trail on the

essly against the smooth, pa

ereal drumbeat. They weren't men watching a woman in agony; they were o

contractions, the crushing weight of her belly, the brutal grip on her arms-it all conspired to push her into a hazy, dreamlike stat

he memories came. U

msy accident. It was a calculated interception. He had known she would be there. He had already run the backgro

ingle, casual conversation. She had thought he was being thoughtful. Now she knew:

tell her stories until she fell asleep. She had believed he was comforting his beloved. Now she understood:

destar, the light that guided him through his cold, dark world. What a sick, poetic lie. The only sta

ms, laughing, promising her the world. He wasn't celebrating the creation of their family. He was celebrating a successful yield. He

belly, as if to shield her childr

ouch was an assessment. Every whispered "I l

g. All the beautiful, cherished moments of the last three years curdled

e had been a project. A long-te

e of nausea so profound it wa

she had thought was her savior, her soulmate, was a monster. A creature

death for the last hour, finally gave its last gasp. And in th

a

ld, and

d again-harder this time, more coordinated. They wer

e. It spread through her veins, sharpening her

r voice a ragged whisper. "Hold on, babi

rds a vow in the deepest part of her s

p away everything he held dear, just as he had done to her. She would make him feel a

ed into a steady, reassuri

ve her a reason to fight through the waves of pain, a

meras, fire exit, two in the morning." A seed. S

A sign on the wall read: SURGICAL WING - RESTRICTED A

cution

corridor. Somewhere back there was the room wher