The text on the screen seemed to pulse with a malevolent light. """Subject may be pregnant."" For a long, suspended moment, Violet Bento simply stared, the words searing themselves onto her retinas. Then, a tremor began deep within her, a seismic shift of pure, undiluted rage that broke through her meticulously cultivated composure. Her pupils contracted to pinpricks. With a violent, guttural sound of disgust, she hurled the phone across the dressing room. It struck the mirrored wall with a ...