Hattie:
The room felt colder after Brooks left. To me, the world was stripped of its warmth, drained of color and life. I leaned my head back against the pillows, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, fingers clutching the thin hospital blanket tightly.
The whispers of my own heartbeat echoed painfully within my chest, each beat reminding me of the life that had once grown there, now stolen away. I felt hollow, empty—consumed by grief so deep it ached in every breath, every moment.
Brooks had tried to reach me, his voice thick with regret, his eyes filled with remorse, but the wounds were too fresh. Every time I looked at him, I relived the moment our baby slipped away, the scarlet stain of blood painting my dress, the desperate panic in his voice. It was all too much, suffocating me ben
