Lavender’s POV
I don’t remember leaving Margaret Robinson’s room. I don’t remember walking down the hallway, or the hum of nurses’ voices fading behind me, or the way the cold hospital air pressed against my arms like a warning. What I do remember is this, her words, her eyes.
The quiet certainty in her voice when she said, “You’re carrying my great-grandchild.” Something inside me cracked, not loudly, not violently, just a soft, devastating sound, the kind that changes a life without anyone hearing it. I make it back to my ward and shut the door. My back hits the wall. I slide downward until I’m sitting on the cold tiles, both hands over my mouth, breathing through fear.
No… this wasn’t supposed to happen. She wasn’t supposed to know, she wasn’t supposed to find out.
No one was suppos
