I felt like something had snapped.
“Ahhh!” I screamed, curling into a ball.
“Get up!” Sylvia shouted, standing beside me. “Stop pretending! You didn’t even hit your head!”
Then I felt it.
Heat. Dampness. Soaking my underwear. Spreading up my thighs.
I looked down.
Against the pristine white tiles of Sylvia’s kitchen floor, a pool of bright crimson was rapidly expanding.
“The baby…” I whispered. The horror was absolute. It choked me.
David ran into the kitchen, followed by Mark.
