Chapter 4

I woke up to the smell of disinfectant.

My lower abdomen throbbed with a clear, dragging pain.

"Miss, you had a miscarriage." The nurse's words were calm, like she was commenting on the weather.

I blinked at the white ceiling.

Strange---it wasn't the earth-shattering devastation I'd imagined.

Maybe I'd been hurt too much and gone numb.

Or maybe that man's kick had also destroyed my last pathetic hope for Ethan White.

The hospital room door was gently pushed open.

It was the Maybach's owner.

The man held my examination report, his brow tightly furrowed.

"You're awake?" His voice was low, carrying a trace of barely perceptible remorse. "How do you feel?"

"Thank you!" My voice came out hoarse and dry.

He poured a glass of warm water and handed it to me.

The gesture was gentlemanly, maintaining just the right distance.

"The police came by to say that child was abducted from a mall this afternoon. They thanked you for inadvertently helping them out."

I pulled at the corner of my mouth without speaking.

"That man wasn't caught." He paused, looking at me.

"Do you... need to contact family?"

Family?

Ethan?

Tell him he might have once had a child, but not anymore?

I closed my eyes and shook my head.

"No need."

Silence spread through the hospital room.

The pain in my lower abdomen came in waves, like a dull knife twisting inside.

But worse than the physical pain was the enormous hole in my heart.

That little life I hadn't even had time to anticipate before losing.

Finally, when I was at my most wretched and desperate, the only thing that truly belonged to me.

Also gone.

"I've already paid the medical expenses." The man's voice sounded again, carrying an non-negotiable tone. "You need to rest."

I opened my eyes and looked at him.

There was no pity in his eyes, only a sense of responsibility based on principle.

"That's not necessary." I refused decisively. "I'll take responsibility for what I should bear. The medical expenses and car damages---I'll settle everything once I'm discharged."

He looked at me, didn't insist further, and only left a business card.

The door closed gently.

I was alone in the hospital room again.

Dawn was breaking outside the window.

Enduring the pain, I slowly sat up. I reached for my phone on the bedside table. The screen was still cracked but still functional.

I opened Ethan's chat interface.

The last message stopped at his text: "Family dinner tonight, don't be late."

I stared at those words for a long time.

Then my finger moved.

Block, delete, all in one fluid motion.