I felt the words strike me harder than any blow could have. My chest constricted, air squeezed from my lungs as if the walls themselves were closing in. The doctor’s tone was calm, professional, but his words—her words, the truth—cut sharper than knives. The baby… was gone. My hands trembled violently, my knees threatening to buckle. I sank into the nearest chair, gripping it as though it were a lifeline, though I knew no mortal thing could save me now from the storm of guilt that had ...