Her husband sighed when she raised the subject again. “You’re scaring yourself,” he said gently, taking the baby from her into his arms. “It’s just scar tissue. Nothing sinister.” But his soft dismissal again deepened her isolation. To him, it was only a mark. To her, it was a riddle that needed to be solved.
Days blurred into restless loops of research. She scoured medical forums, message boards, and anonymous blogs. Some posts described unexplained scars after surgeries, dismissed by doctors as “adhesions” or “stretch marks.” But her scar didn’t match. It had the precision of a scalpel, a deliberate hand.