CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE:
“Lyra, you’re bleeding.”
Dimitri’s voice cut through the quiet nursery like a gunshot. He stood frozen in the doorway, eyes locked on the small red stain on her maternity pants, face drained of all color.
Lyra’s hand flew to her stomach, heart slamming against her ribs. “No. Not now. The baby—” Her voice cracked as sharp pain lanced through her abdomen. She doubled over, gripping the crib rail. “Dimitri, something’s wrong. Call the doctor. Please.”
He was across the room in two strides, scooping her up despite her protests. “Stay with me. Breathe. Just breathe, love.” His voice shook with barely contained terror as he carried her downstairs, phone already to his ear. “This is Dimitri Voss. My wife is pregnant, thirty weeks, she’s bleeding and in pain. We’re leavin
