Chapter 3

A nurse came over and pushed a thick needle into my vein.

I watched my blood leave my body, powerless to stop it.

Humiliated tears slid silently down my face.

Robert came closer and wiped them away with his warm palm.

He was careful, almost tender, when he said, "Nora, I know you feel wronged.

"After this is over, whatever you want, I will make it up to you."

When the five hundred milliliters were finally drawn, I collapsed in the chair. Even lifting a finger took effort.

Robert took the blood bag and ran straight toward the ICU.

The tear tracks on Vivienne's face had already dried.

She returned to her usual lofty, dismissive self and said to me, "You can go now.

"I will have the driver take you back to the hotel to rest."

There was not a single thank-you. It was as if everything were only natural.

I braced myself against the chair and struggled to stand.

Meeting Vivienne's eyes, I said weakly, "The debt I owed you is repaid today.

"From now on, we owe each other nothing."

When I walked out of the hospital, heavy snow filled the sky.

I wore only a thin coat. My belly was heavy, and every step left me breathless.

Suddenly, a tearing pain ripped through my abdomen.

It felt as if my womb had been clamped and dragged downward with all its force.

My lower back felt as though thousands of needles had pierced it at once, each one stabbing into the deepest place.

My knees hit the ground. I lost my balance and fell forward.

My phone flew from my pocket and landed two yards away, the screen shattering on impact.

Then warmth surged beneath me.

Blood mixed with amniotic fluid gushed out.

People on the street stopped to stare.

Some took out their phones to film.

Some pointed at me and spoke in a language I did not understand.

Some frowned and walked around me.

Crying weakly, I reached toward the nearest passerby for help.

"Help! Please... help me."

The person glanced at me and hurried away.

I lay in the snow, one hand protecting my belly, the other desperately reaching for my phone.

At last, my fingers touched it.

With difficulty, I called Robert.

"Save me. I am outside the hospital. My stomach hurts so much. I think I am giving birth."

His exhausted, indifferent voice came through the line.

"Nora, Clark is still in danger. I cannot leave.

"Your due date is still two months away. You cannot be giving birth this soon."

His tone paused, filled with impatience.

"If you really feel that bad, call an ambulance. I will pay the bill.

"You need to learn to be strong. Not everything requires me to show up."

Then the call ended.

My suspended heart dropped hard.

It felt as if the entire world had collapsed.

Three years ago, when I had a slight fever, Robert bought the earliest overnight flight home.

He held me in his arms the entire time, warming the IV bag with his own body heat.

He whispered into my ear, "Nora, from now on, do not endure things alone.

"Watching you suffer is worse than death for me."

Now I lay in the snow of a foreign country.

Those once-beautiful memories were as fragile as bubbles. One touch, and they burst.

Snow struck my face.

The movement in my belly grew weaker and weaker.

My consciousness blurred.

Then darkness swallowed me.

When I opened my eyes again, I was staring at a hospital ceiling.

Instinctively, I placed my hand on my stomach.

It was flat.