“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Harris,’ the doctor said. ‘We couldn’t save the baby.” Sydney’s hand drifted to her stomach, her brows creasing. “What are you talking about?” The doctor straightened and slid a file across his desk. “You may not have known, but you were three weeks pregnant when you were rushed in yesterday. The pain you felt—it was a miscarriage.’ She lifted the file, her eyes skimming the cold, clinical words. Three weeks. A fragile life had flickered inside her, unknown, only to slip away before she was even aware. The loss carved a hollow in her chest, sharp and relentless. But Sydney didn’t break—not there. She forced the grief down, stood, and met the doctor’s gaze. ‘Thanks for telling me.’ With the file tucked into her bag, she left the hospital, her composure a brittle shield. It shattered when she reached her bedroom. She went straight to the bathroom and sank into the jacuzzi, the warm water rippling as sobs tore through her. She hadn’t known she was a mother—no
Last Updated : 2025-03-27 Read more