“You… you went through my bag?”
Even though the heat in the room was turned up high and the ginger tea in her hands was scalding hot, Emma suddenly felt a bone-deep cold, as if she’d been plunged into an icy cavern.
“Who went through your bag?”
Karen Hayes was busy bringing dishes to the table and still didn’t look at her daughter. She just explained, “You tossed your bag over there as soon as you came in. When I went to pick it up, everything fell out…”
“Oh, right. What’s the deal with that lab report?”
After setting down the last dish, Karen Hayes finally stopped, wiping her wet hands on her apron. “Honey, why are you so pale all of a sudden? Do you have a fever?”
“No, no…”
Emma shook her head, her face pale.
Her heart was pounding wildly, but seeing her mother acting so normal, as if she hadn't noticed anything, she forced herself to act casual. “You didn’t look at the report?”
“I was about to! But then you asked me to get you a pad, and I got sidetracked and forgot. So, what’s the deal with that report?”
Hearing that her mother hadn't opened the lab report, the knot of anxiety in Emma’s chest finally loosened. “It’s… it’s nothing. It’s just the post-op checkup I had after my miscarriage a while back, to see how my body’s recovering.”
“So what does the report say? How are you recovering?”
“I’m fine, really. I’m recovering very well. Don’t worry!”
Emma pulled out a chair and sat down. The sweet ginger tea in her hands suddenly didn’t taste so bad. She took a small sip, and to stop her mother from talking about the report, she quickly changed the subject. “You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”
The reheated food on the table was clearly untouched.
Karen Hayes sat down and nodded, stating it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Of course not. You were working late. How could I eat by myself?”

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