“What did the specialist say today?” Sherry was lying on the couch with her bump pointed upwards.
I giggled, staring towards Jacques.
Jacques adopted a serious expression on his face, looking glum. “Erm, she needs a long series of therapy sessions to recover. That’s for occupational therapy.”
“For psychiatry, it will depend on herself. We won’t know for sure.”
She immediately pushed her bankbook towards him. I widened my eyes curiously at the massive number of zeros in her account.
“Hey, you’ve got a lot of money!” I chuckled, bouncing on the nearby recliner. She instantly cupped her hands protectively over her bump.
“Be careful, May. My baby’s in there.”
Jacques shot me an ominous look while Sherry looked down at the newspaper she was reading. I knew what he meant. I should have known the limit for my acting. Sherry couldn’t injure her baby. The baby, which she didn’t know the gender of, was all she had left when she left her husband.