The sterile scent of disinfectant filled the hospital room where Claire Mitchell lay weak and pale, still recovering from surgery after a devastating miscarriage.
Tubes and monitors surrounded her, their beeps echoing her broken spirit.
That was when her husband of six years, Michael, walked in—expression cold, a manila folder in hand.
“Claire,” he said flatly. “We need to settle this.”
Confused, she asked, “Settle what?”
He dropped the folder on her lap. The bold words at the top made her chest tighten: DIVORCE AGREEMENT.
“Michael… not now,” she whispered, tears threatening to spill.
