He takes slow, deliberate strides toward me. “Please, dear, don’t strain your body. It’s not good for you or the baby.”
My baby… I place my hand on my stomach, suddenly feeling like a terrible mother. I had been so overwhelmed by my pain and heartbreak that I forgot to check if my child was okay or even still alive.
“Don’t worry, your baby is safe,” he reassures me, and relief washes over me. He walks over to one of the large, drums in the corner of the room and retrieves a bowl set on top of the cover. Carefully, he fetches some water and hands it to me. “Drink up, dear.”
Without protest, I take the bowl from him, my hands trembling slightly from weakness.
“Easy,” he says soothingly as I gulp down the water, feeling the cool liquid soothe my parched throat.
“Let me go get you someth
