Aliyah’s POV

The hospital corridors smelled faintly of antiseptic, that sharp, sterile scent that always made me feel smaller somehow. I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt lower over my face, praying no one would notice me as I slipped into the prenatal program office. Every step I took echoed with the heavy reminder of why I was here, of the tiny heartbeat that had tied itself to mine.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, I was supposed to be training, racing, fighting my way to the top. Not ...