That night, a twisting stab in my stomach yanked me out of a nightmare.Cold sweat soaked my pajamas. I curled into myself, even breathing felt like pain.I fumbled for the nightstand, trying to find painkillers, nothing.Only then did I remember: the nanny had already cleared out the household medicine, saying Emma couldn't stand the smell of it.This massive house felt empty as a tomb.They were probably all crowded in Emma's room, asking if she was cold, if she was hungry, if she needed anything.I forced myself up and went to the hospital alone.In the ER, the doctor scanned my medical records and his expression turned grim."How did you end up like this again? Didn't I tell you to take care of yourself?"He looked up, scolding. "Wasn't Christian keeping an eye on you? Last time he was here, he begged me again and again to get you properly healed."My mind went a little blank.The first time my stomach flared up, it was here too.Christian had carried me into the ER, eyes red, grip
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