The waiting process was like being a fish in a frying pan, repeatedly emitting a burnt aroma. Dorothy stared blankly at the pure white ceiling, the chaotic footsteps in the corridor and the painful wailing of patients echoing in her ears. No place commanded more reverence for life and death than a hospital. A new life was growing in her belly, while in the hallway, perhaps someone was crossing the boundary between life and death.
As Dorothy lost herself in thought, Mike, standing in the corridor, was also in turmoil. He stared at his bloodstained hands, unable to control their trembling. Dorothy had been by his side since childhood. They went to school together, rode bikes together, attended dances together... He had watched with his own eyes as Dorothy transformed from a girl to a young
