Chapter 5: The Heartbeat

On Saturday morning, the day I was supposed to marry Rupert, I woke up in a hotel two blocks from the clinic.

My phone had a dozen messages.

Rupert had written the first one at six.

"Your dress is still here. The ceremony is at two. Please come, and we'll fix the rest after."

Lydia had written the second, which was very kind.

"Everyone's worried about you, honey. The flowers are paid for. Take your time, but come."

Neither of them had cancelled anything.

They were still waiting for me to sign.

I turned the phone face down and drank my iron tonic in one swallow.

The clinic was quiet at nine.

I changed into a paper gown, and a nurse took my blood again.

"Your numbers are up," she said, reading the printout. "Better than Wednesday."

"So we can go ahead."

"The doctor wants one more scan first, to confirm dates."

I lay back on the table.

The room smelled of rubbing alcohol and warm gel.

The technician was young, with a tired smile, and she squeezed cold gel onto the curve of my stomach.

"Looking at four months and a few days," she said. "Let me turn the screen."

I had not looked at the last scan.

I had left the room before it was over.

Now there was a small gray shape on the screen with a fast white flicker in the center of it.

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