Chapter 2

Cold.

That was the first thing Fiona felt. A deep, bone-chilling cold that seeped up from the floor and into her very marrow.

She forced her eyes open. The ceiling above her was a blur of white and gray. The smell hit her next-copper and antiseptic, a sickening combination that made her stomach heave.

She was still on the floor.

The pain in her abdomen had dulled to a throbbing ache, but the wetness between her legs was still there, still warm, still sticky.

Fiona groaned, her throat feeling like sandpaper. She moved her hand, searching blindly. Her fingers brushed against the cold glass of the phone screen.

She pulled it toward her face. The screen was locked, covered in dried, flaking blood. Her thumb pressed against the sensor. Nothing.

She wiped the screen frantically on the clean part of her dress, smearing the blood around. She tried again.

The home screen appeared.

She had to call someone. Emmanuel was dead to her. There was only one other person.

Her fingers shook so badly she nearly tapped the wrong contact. Audrey.

She pressed the phone to her ear, the ringing sounding miles away.

"Fiona?" Audrey's voice was groggy with sleep. "Why are you calling so la-"

"Help." Fiona's voice was a broken whisper. "Audrey, help me."

"Fiona? What's wrong? Where are you?"

"The apartment." Fiona gasped as another cramp seized her. "Blood. So much blood."

"Oh my God." The grogginess vanished from Audrey's voice, replaced by sheer panic. "I'm coming. Don't move. I'm calling 911. Stay with me, Fiona!"

Fiona couldn't respond. The phone slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor.

The darkness pulled her under again.

The next time she woke, the world was a cacophony of noise. Sirens wailing. Voices shouting.

"BP is dropping! We need to get her on the table now!"

"Type and cross, stat!"

She was moving, the lights on the ceiling streaking past her like shooting stars. Faces hovered over her, masked and gowned.

Then she saw Audrey. Her best friend was running alongside the gurney, tears streaming down her face, her hand reaching for Fiona's but missing.

"Fiona! Stay awake!"

Fiona wanted to say something, to tell Audrey about the baby, but a mask was pressed over her face. The air tasted like plastic and chemicals.

"Ma'am, you need to step back!" a paramedic yelled.

"I'm her sister!" Audrey screamed back.

The doors to the trauma bay swung open, and Fiona was wheeled inside. The doors swung shut, cutting Audrey off.

A doctor loomed over her, his face serious. "Mrs. Meyers, you're hemorrhaging. We need to perform an emergency D&C. You've lost the pregnancy."

Lost the pregnancy.

The words echoed in her head, bouncing around the hollow space where the baby used to be.

"I'm sorry," Fiona mouthed, though no sound came out.

A needle pierced her arm. A warm flush spread through her veins.

The last thing she saw before the darkness took her again was the bright, blinding light of the surgical lamp.

Hours later, or maybe minutes, Fiona woke up.

The room was quiet. The harsh lights of the ER were gone, replaced by the soft, ambient lighting of a VIP suite. The beeping of the heart monitor was a steady, rhythmic pulse.

She blinked, trying to clear the fog from her brain. She felt empty.

Her hand drifted down to her stomach. It was flat. Too flat. The slight swell that had been there just hours ago was gone. The tightness, the warmth, the secret life she had been carrying-it was all gone.

There was just nothing.

"Fiona?" Audrey's voice came from the chair beside the bed.

Fiona turned her head. Audrey looked terrible. Her eyes were red and puffy, her hair a mess. She was gripping Fiona's hand so hard it hurt.

"Hey," Fiona croaked. Her throat felt like it had been scrubbed with steel wool.

Audrey let out a choked sob. "You scared me to death. I thought... I thought you were going to die."

Fiona looked at the ceiling. "I didn't."

"The baby..." Audrey started, her voice trembling.

"It's gone." Fiona's voice was flat, devoid of any emotion. It was as if someone had reached inside her and scooped out all the feelings, leaving only a shell.

"I'm so sorry, Fi."

Fiona turned her head back to Audrey. She tried to smile, but her face felt stiff, the muscles refusing to cooperate. "It's okay."

"It's not okay!" Audrey's face twisted with anger. "Emmanuel is a monster. He left you there to die. I swear to God, I will kill him."

Fiona didn't say anything. She just stared at the wall.

"Give me a mirror," she said suddenly.

Audrey blinked. "What?"

"A mirror. I need to see."

Audrey hesitated, then pulled a compact from her purse and handed it over.

Fiona opened it and looked at her reflection. The woman staring back at her was pale, her lips bloodless, her eyes sunken with dark circles. She looked like a ghost.

She reached up and wiped at a tear track on her cheek. Her fingers came away dry.

She snapped the compact shut.

The door to the room opened. A nurse walked in, carrying the largest bouquet of white lilies Fiona had ever seen. The sweet, heavy scent of the flowers filled the room instantly.

"Good, you're awake!" the nurse chirped. "These just arrived for you. From your husband."

She set the vase on the bedside table. Tucked among the blooms was a small, cream-colored envelope.

Fiona stared at it. She reached out and pulled the card free.

The handwriting was sharp and familiar. Emmanuel's.

Two words.

"Stop dramatizing."

Fiona stared at the card. The black ink seemed to pulse on the white paper.

Stop dramatizing.

She had nearly bled to death on their living room floor. She had lost their child. And he thought she was putting on a show.

A sound escaped Fiona's throat. It started as a low rumble, a vibration in her chest that grew louder and higher. It was a laugh, but it was wrong. It was cold and sharp and brittle, like glass shattering.

"Fiona?" Audrey asked, her eyes wide. "Are you okay?"

Fiona didn't answer. She kept laughing, the sound echoing off the walls of the sterile room.

She grabbed the vase of lilies. The water was heavy, the glass slippery.

"Fiona, no!" Audrey shouted.

Fiona hurled the vase at the trash can in the corner. It hit the wall with a deafening crash. Water, glass, and white petals exploded everywhere, showering the floor like snow.

The laughter died instantly.

Fiona sat back against the pillows, her chest heaving. The silence in the room was absolute, save for the steady beep of the monitor.

"Get me a pen," she said. Her voice was quiet, but it cut through the silence like a blade.

Audrey stood frozen, staring at the mess on the floor.

"Now, Audrey."

Audrey scrambled, pulling a pen from her bag and handing it over with trembling hands.

Fiona snatched the pen. She looked around for paper. There was none. She looked at the discharge papers on the clipboard at the foot of the bed. She pulled them toward her.

She turned them over, finding a blank space on the back.

She wrote down a single sentence.

Then she looked up at Audrey, her eyes hard and cold as ice.

"Call the lawyer. I want divorce papers drawn up by morning."

"Fiona, you just had surgery-"

"I'm not waiting another second." Fiona handed the pen back. "Do it."

Audrey stared at her for a long moment, then nodded. She pulled out her phone and stepped out into the hallway.

Fiona turned her head toward the window. The sun was rising over Manhattan, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. The light hit her face, but she didn't feel its warmth.

She felt nothing at all.