Zara's POVA soft beeping. Cold sheets. The scent of antiseptic. I stirred my eyes slowly, fluttering open to fluorescent lights that stung.“Hello, ma’am, can you hear me?” A voice echoed in my head, muffled, like it was trying to reach me through water. A nurse’s blurred figure came into view- dressed in pale blue scrubs, hair pulled back, clipboard in hand, eyes kind but cautious.“Yes… I can”, I groaned in pain, my throat dry, each word escaping slowly.The nurse smiled faintly, but it didn’t last long. She flipped through the chart in her hand, lips pressed into a nervous line.“You were rushed here, ma’am, by a man. Thank God he came on time. It could have led to a more serious case, ma’am.” She scanned through a file she held in her hands.“Why didn’t you treat yourself after the miscarriage, ma’am? Can I meet your husband? Where is he?”. The nurse asked, searching my face for answers I didn’t have.“Wait—Mis what–?” I rose gently from the bed as I tried to understand what the
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