The Daily Injection

Chapter 2 A Dead Heart, A Dead Child

The clinic had a gray door and no sign. I paid cash under another name.

In the dim examination room, cold gel spread over my stomach. The technician moved the ultrasound wand across it twice, changed the angle, then stopped.

The screen showed a small body and no movement. She turned on the audio. The speaker gave us only static.

“I'm sorry,” she said.

I stared at the screen until she reached for the tissues. Tears could wait. Adrian still believed I was pregnant, and I needed the hours that lie would buy me.

“Do the procedure today,” I told the doctor. “Document the cause of death, preserve the fetal DNA samples, and give me the full pathology report.”

He studied me for a moment, then signed the order.

The cramps started on the taxi ride home. I held the sealed pathology envelope against my bag and counted each turn until we reached the house.

The pain gave me something immediate to manage: breathe, keep the envelope dry, get through the front door.

Upstairs, I locked my door, opened my tablet, and created a triple-encrypted file called *The Blood Ledger*.

I entered every dose and symptom I could remember.

*Day 1: First injection. Adrian called it a ‘vitamin cocktail for the baby.’ Dosage: 300 mcg filgrastim, estimated. Side effect: Mild bone ache in my hips.*

*Day 15: Increased fatigue. Adrian insisted on a blood test. Dr. Evans drew four vials. Adrian said it was to ‘monitor my iron levels.’*

*Day 92: Sharp pain in my spleen. Adrian held me, told me it was the baby shifting, and gave me the injection himself, kissing the site on my thigh.*

The entries covered six months. I attached dates, estimated doses, blood draws, pain, and every message Adrian had sent after I complained.

Where memory was uncertain, I marked it as an estimate. I wanted evidence his lawyers could not pull apart.

When I went downstairs, two painters were finishing the nursery. Adrian stood between them, approving a wall painted soft blue.

“Serena, my love!” He beamed, striding over to wrap me in his arms. “Where have you been? I was worried.”

“I needed some air.” I let him hug me and kept the pathology envelope pinned between my back and the bag.

“Come, look.” He kept one arm around me and led me to the nursery doorway. “Perfect, isn’t it? For our little boy.”

He knelt and put his ear to my stomach. “I can almost hear him,” he whispered. “Our little champion.”

I rested a hand on his shoulder so he would not notice me pull away. There was nothing left for him to hear.

He stood and straightened his cuffs. “Oh, I have some wonderful news. I was speaking with Chloe. Lily’s treatment is scheduled for next week, and it’s just too much for them to handle from a hotel.”

He smiled. “I told them they could stay with us for a few days. They’ll be here this evening.”

Chloe and Lily would arrive that evening. Lily's treatment was next week. Adrian had arranged all of it before asking me.

I made myself smile.

“Of course, darling,” I said. “They are welcome here.”

Relief crossed his face. He turned back to the painters and never saw me slip the pathology report beneath my cardigan.