To Keep a Homeless Mafia Boss
The doctor’s words echoed in my ears, a cruel, relentless barrage of medical jargon that failed to mask the devastating truth.
“I’m so sorry,” he’d said, his voice soft, his eyes filled with compassion. “There was… a complication. And I hate to bring you the bad news but… you’ve had a miscarriage. You lost your baby, Miss Sanchez.”
A miscarriage. The word felt alien, clinical, inadequate to describe the profound sense of loss that consumed me. It wasn’t just the loss of a pregnancy; it was the loss of a dream, the loss of a future, the loss of a part of myself. It was the loss of my child.
Hot Chapters