an's
ing of the underground syndica
tated clicking of my dress shoes against the
hed so tightly my k
broken at the bottom of
and soaked with my wife's dried bl
led up in a cha
nds. "It was an accident. I swear, I tried to catch he
ulder of terror felt wedged under my ribs,
of the operating roon scrubs covered in blood. He pulled down
rides and grabbed the doctor
e's alive,"
uickly, raising his hands. "She survived the f
th. I released his collar and lea
ive. I cou
s; I could give her the
ontinued, "I'm so sorry.
orridor was so deafe
cessing sound; the words seem
ab
oreign syl
at the doctor, co
dea she wa
s ago, her womb was des
He shoved a thick medical
is tone thick with indignation, all professional respec
temples like steel nails, shattering
back, slamming i
, tugging at my jacket, whisperi
ng her off in a mo
trying to tell me something import
ng champagne, publicly humiliating the mothe
of self-loathing
ll. The force was so great that the
bloody, mangled mess, as if the physical pain in my ha
self tightly into her chair, terri
ar. "You can't blame yourself. Sienna started it. She lost
all, my bleeding hand dr
d aroun
fake tears, the hidden apathy,
rderous glare locked onto her face
fool?" I asked, my v
d out my encrypted phone. I dialed my head of securi
r leaving her pale face. "Bring me the security footage of the
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