Pregnant? At seventy-two? She shook her head, heart galloping. George had been dead for over a decade. She hadn’t even looked at another man since. She hadn’t touched anyone. The idea was absurd. Obscene. Yet the number sat on that screen like a verdict. High. Abnormal. Elevated.
Advertising
Advertising
“No,” she whispered aloud, rising to her elbows. “No, no, no.” Her voice began to rise. Panic overtook her reason. She pressed the call button. Then pounded it. The nurse re-entered, startled. Tula was trembling. “Get the doctor,” she snapped. “Now.” The nurse hesitated. “Now!” she screamed. “I want answers!”
Advertising