Chapter 1: The Sterile Room
The hospital room smelled sharply of antiseptic, stale coffee, and the faint, metallic scent of my own fear. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a sickly, unforgiving pallor over my exhausted face. I was twenty-eight years old, and twenty-four hours prior, I had nearly bled to death.
An ectopic pregnancy had ruptured in the middle of the night. The emergency surgery had saved my life, but it had left me hollowed out, physically and emotionally shattered. I was hooked up to a symphony of monitors that beeped in a steady, monotonous rhythm, tracking a heartbeat that felt too weak to belong to me. A heavy, white bandage stretched across my abdomen, pulling agonizingly every time I tried to shift my weight against the stiff hospital pillows. I was completely, utterly incapable of physically defending myself from a strong breeze, let alone a human being.
