Chapter 29
Rhys paused at the hospital door. Eyes closed, hand claw-like on the latch, he tried to gauge the horror within. There were no clues. The cabin lay silent, voiceless. He pushed open the door.
Iesu! He recoiled. Sweet Jesus, she was lifeless as a corpse. ‘Siân,’ he croaked. ‘How is it with you, cariad?’
She didn’t answer, though for a moment, Rhys fancied he saw her eyelids flicker. He crossed the room. Her fingers cold, so cold—icy as a new fallen snow. He rubbed them, trying to summon their warmth.
‘Sut wyt ti cariad? Please, Siân, speak to me.’
Nefi, how slender she looked beneath the covers, hardly a bump to the sheets. Slender! Dear God, the baby. Where had it gone? Rhys spun round. Saw the hawse bucket filled with blood. Siân’s blood, dripping out of her, slow, measure
