he tucked the paperclip into the folds of her thi

a small, precise gesture-as if adjusting himself for a board meeting. Dr.

empty voids. They never met hers; they fixed on some point near her shoulder, or per

was more terrifying than any shout. "Walk into that operating room on your

A sliver of mercy from a

r chest. The sound was raw and filled with

erate in the murder of my own children? So you c

seemed to momentarily pierce

ssing Carlisle but looking at Camila with eyes full of professional

in a high-risk quadruplet pregnancy, especially after a premature r

ge. She will go into hypovolemic shock. The mortality rate is exceptional

the air, a clinical, brut

yes, for any sign of hesitation, any flicker of doubt. A tiny, pathetic part of her soul still h

ithout flinching. When Dr. Price was fini

lity of a successful

ng. It was clear he couldn't comprehend how, in the face of certain

robability is high," the doctor answered, h

e-crossed Dr. Price's face, but it was gone b

ed to know," Car

a black frost that killed everything it touched. For a split second, he

ision s

snuffed out, leaving behind nothing but cold, black ash. She felt something freeze in her chest-not pain, not even

remor-then fell still. It was as if her children se

itself shut. It was no longer a living, feeling organ. It was

nothingness beyond. Her fingers brushed the hidden paperclip through the thin fabric of h

victim. It was the silence of a warrior gat

er stillness as submissio

eg

sing his face. But he was a man who followed orders, especially when the

f he were leaving a business meeting that had run a few minutes too long. Outside, the rain slammed against the win

amila's eyes snapped open. The de

. Her fingers pressed against the hidden paperclip one last time, feeling its small, sharp edges through the fabric. It