Dr. Sarah’s office smelled like antiseptic and lavender, an odd combination that Rhea would come to associate, for the rest of her life, with the exact moment her world tilted sideways for the second time in a month.
She’d almost talked herself out of coming that morning, standing in front of the mirror telling herself it was stress, exhaustion, the aftershock of Silverridge finally catching up with her body in strange ways. It was Caden, in the end, who’d noticed the shadows under her eyes and gently insisted, his hand at her back guiding her toward the car before she could argue her way out of it. He was waiting in the corridor outside now, giving her privacy for the appointment, having no idea what she already suspected and hadn’t found the words to say aloud to anyone but Mrs. Torres.
