Chapter 2 - The Secret Trip
The next afternoon, Gary left for work like it was any other day. The second his car disappeared down the street, I grabbed my keys.
"Paige," I said gently. "Get your shoes."
She looked confused. "Where are we going?"
"To the hospital."
Her eyes widened slightly. "But Dad said—"
"I don't care what your dad said." I kept my voice soft but firm. "We're going."
She didn't argue. That scared me more than anything else could have.
The drive to St. Augustine Medical Center felt endless. Paige stared out the window the whole way, the sky outside heavy and gray, like a storm waiting just beyond the horizon. When we finally arrived, the hospital doors slid open with a mechanical hum, and the smell of antiseptic and polished floors filled the air around us.
A nurse greeted us at the front desk. "Name?"
"Paige Doyle," I said.
Within minutes they'd taken her vitals and led us back to an exam room. Paige sat quietly on the paper-covered table, feet swinging slightly, looking smaller than usual. Younger. Like the little girl who used to run into my arms after school.
The doctor arrived about twenty minutes later. Dr. Whitcombe — calm, middle-aged, kind eyes, a voice with the steady rhythm of someone used to delivering hard news gently.
"What seems to be the problem today?" he asked.
Paige glanced at me. I spoke for her. "She's been nauseous for weeks. Stomach pain. Fatigue."
Dr. Whitcombe nodded thoughtfully. "Let's run some tests."
The next hour passed in a blur — blood tests, questions, an ultrasound. Paige barely spoke, staring at the ceiling while the technician moved the scanner across her stomach. I watched the monitor without understanding a single thing on it. Dark shapes. Flickering shadows. The technician's face stayed carefully neutral the entire time.
"Doctor will review the results," she said when it was over, and excused herself quietly.
Then we waited. The waiting room felt colder than the rest of the hospital. My hands twisted together endlessly. Paige leaned against me without a word.
After what felt like forever, the door opened. Dr. Whitcombe stepped inside, holding his clipboard too tightly.
"Mrs. Doyle," he said quietly. "We need to talk."
Paige sat beside me on the exam table, trembling. Dr. Whitcombe closed the door behind him and lowered his voice.
"The scan shows there's something inside her."
For a second I couldn't breathe. "Inside her?" I repeated weakly. "What do you mean?"
He hesitated. That hesitation was louder than any answer could have been. My heart started pounding violently.
"What is it?" I whispered.
May you like
Dr. Whitcombe exhaled slowly. "We need to discuss the results in private. But I need you to prepare yourself."
The air in that room went heavy all at once. Paige's face crumpled. And in that moment, before the truth was even spoken — before the whole world split open beneath me — I could do nothing but scream.
