After all the commotion between Reggie and Dylan I felt utterly drained and fell asleep hard. They took Reggie away once they realized he was the one who hurt me. Waking up the hospital room smells like antiseptic and something bitter underneath it, like fear that’s already soaked into the walls. The monitors hum softly beside me, steady and insistent, reminding me that I’m still here. That we are still here.
I press my hand against my stomach, careful, protective. Every movement still aches where the stick pierced me—where Reggie’s rage crossed a line he can never uncross. The doctor said the baby is stable, miraculously so, but I’ll need a month of rest. No stress. No excitement. No Reggie.
That last part isn’t a suggestion.
Through the thin crack of the door, I hear raised voices. On
