Chapter 4: Welfare Check

I stepped onto my friend's porch in her slippers and pressed record on my phone before I said hello.

The two officers were young and polite, and one of them kept looking at my stomach.

"Mrs. Huntington? We're with the Cranston police. We've been told you left home last night in distress."

"My name is Tillie Salisbury. I left home last night after my husband's family told me to end a healthy pregnancy."

"Ma'am, the request says you're not well."

"Who wrote it?"

He looked at the paper.

"Your husband signed. And the Huntington family physician countersigned."

"Is the physician here?"

"He's in the sedan at the curb. He's concerned about you."

I walked down the steps and across the lawn, and I stopped at the passenger window of the gray sedan.

The Huntington doctor lowered the glass.

He was a gaunt man with silver hair and an expensive watch. He had treated me for six years, and I had never learned his first name.

"Tillie," he said gently. "You're not thinking clearly. Come with me and we'll get you looked at."

"Looked at by whom?"

"By me."

"Have you ever done a scan on me that showed a measurement?"

"I don't see how that is relevant."

"It's a yes or no."

He smiled the way he smiled at the Sunday table.

"You are in an emotional state, and you have been through a great deal. The family is very worried."

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