End Game
I sit in the bed with her, wrapping my arms around her slender waist.
“The guy who tried to break in,” I start, working hard to keep my voice steady. Quinn turns to me, eyes meeting mine. And then Dr. Taylor knocks on the door, coming in a second later. She goes over the ultrasound—everything is normal.
“Are you still feeling pain?” she asks Quinn, looking at her chart on the computer screen.
“Not right now. I felt it most when I was moving.”
“Did it feel like period cramps?”
Quinn shakes her head. “Not at first. It was more sharp, like something was being pulled. Then it cramped and went away after a minute. I felt it again when I was getting in the car to come here.”