Katrina pov
The air in the kitchen felt heavy, suffocatingly still, as the finality of Mrs. Roberts’ command hung in the silence. *Tomorrow 9 a.m. Don’t be late.*
Late for what?
For killing my child? For signing the death warrant of the first heartbeat that had ever chosen me first? For walking into that cold, sterile white room and letting a woman who traded in souls erase the only thing in this world that was truly mine?
My fingers trembled around the phone until the screen went dark, but the words didn't leave. They burned behind my eyes, searing themselves into my brain. *Tomorrow 9 a.m. Don’t be late.* Like it was a dentist appointment. Like it was a lunch meeting. Like my baby was nothing more than a minor scheduling conflict to be canceled and cleared from a calendar.
I stood
