Her condition is critical, and even if her body pulls through, the Chloe you knew may not come back the same.

Her body may not survive carrying the pregnancy in this critical condition, so you should prepare to say goodbye.”

“No, I won’t accept that,” I replied coldly, turning away from him to enter the ICU.

Machines breathed and beeped rhythmically around her like cold, mechanical angels watching over the dying.

Chloe lay completely still beneath a maze of tubes, monitors, and thick white bandages.

I sat beside her narrow bed and held her ice-cold, bruised hand.