he tucked the paperclip into the folds of her thi
a small, precise gesture-as if adjusting himself for a board meeting. Dr.
empty voids. They never met hers; they fixed on some point near her shoulder, or per
was more terrifying than any shout. "Walk into that operating room on your
A sliver of mercy from a
r chest. The sound was raw and filled with
erate in the murder of my own children? So you c
seemed to momentarily pierce
ssing Carlisle but looking at Camila with eyes full of professional
in a high-risk quadruplet pregnancy, especially after a premature r
ge. She will go into hypovolemic shock. The mortality rate is exceptional
the air, a clinical, brut
yes, for any sign of hesitation, any flicker of doubt. A tiny, pathetic part of her soul still h
ithout flinching. When Dr. Price was fini
lity of a successful
ng. It was clear he couldn't comprehend how, in the face of certain
robability is high," the doctor answered, h
e-crossed Dr. Price's face, but it was gone b
ed to know," Car
a black frost that killed everything it touched. For a split second, he
ision s
snuffed out, leaving behind nothing but cold, black ash. She felt something freeze in her chest-not pain, not even
remor-then fell still. It was as if her children se
itself shut. It was no longer a living, feeling organ. It was
nothingness beyond. Her fingers brushed the hidden paperclip through the thin fabric of h
victim. It was the silence of a warrior gat
er stillness as submissio
eg
sing his face. But he was a man who followed orders, especially when the
f he were leaving a business meeting that had run a few minutes too long. Outside, the rain slammed against the win
amila's eyes snapped open. The de
. Her fingers pressed against the hidden paperclip one last time, feeling its small, sharp edges through the fabric. It
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