The hospital walls whispered sterile apologies. Elaine lay still, bandaged and hollow, eyes fixed on the ceiling tiles.
The doctor’s words repeated in her head like thunder:
**“No fetal heartbeat.”**
James hadn’t returned since.
Lucia had.
Lucia brought flowers.
White lilies.
Elaine knocked the vase over the moment the door shut behind her.
---
Two days later, Lucia hosted a press conference on the hospital steps.
“She’s struggling,” Lucia said, blinking tears. “I forgive her. Trauma makes people do terrible things.”
Reporters swarmed.
“Are you saying Elaine attacked you?”
Lucia lowered her eyes. “I’m not pressing charges. James and I just want peace.”
Flashbulbs lit her face like stage lights. Her bandage perfectly wrapped. Her expression rehearsed.
Elaine watched the broadcast from her hospital bed, hands clenched.
---
When she was discharged, no one greeted her.
No driver. No James.
She hailed a cab, alone.