Later, she thought she heard Johnson's manic laughter ringing through the air.
"Ha-ha-ha, that little bitch and her family, always a bunch of vipers."
"How can you abandon the woman carrying your baby in her belly? You chose that girl, rejecting your own woman, even willing to abandon your baby. I truly feel sorry for her. Hahaha."
What happened next, she didn't know. Her hand rested on her belly, her only thought being that her baby must be safe.
Before she lost consciousness, chaos surrounded her. She was swept into someone's arms, a voice calling her name that was familiar, the scent in those arms, too, was familiar.
It used to be comforting, even slightly addictive, making her feel safe. Now, she suddenly felt sick.d2
"Yasmine!"
Her eyelids fluttered, but the tears spilled out anyway.
Boyd was in turmoil. He didn't want to believe Johnson's words. He couldn't bear to.
But Yasmine's tears threw him into a panic. He had never seen Yasmine cry. Not as children, nor when they met again as adults. He never even thought of Yasmine as someone capable of tears.
Tears and Yasmine just didn't seem to mix.
--
When Yasmine opened her eyes again, the brightness overwhelmed her. It took a while for her to adjust, to finally make out the pristine white ceiling above her, her gaze tinged with confusion.
She lay still, staring up, and after a long moment, her eyes flashed with clarity.
Something occurred to her, her eyelashes quivered, and as she attempted to rise, a sharp pain in her chest made her gasp for air.
"Yasmine! You're awake?!"
A familiar voice sounded, and she realized her hand was being held, a gentle pressure on her shoulder.
She turned to the man leaning over her. His eyes were sunken, his face pale as if he were the one who had been through a grave illness, drained and haggard.
Yasmine tried to pull her hand back, noticing she didn't have the strength to fight him. "Water," she managed to say.
Boyd quickly brought a glass to her lips. She didn't know how long she had been out, only that she was parched, and the glass was soon empty.
By the time Boyd offered a second glass, she wasn't as desperate. After a few sips, she stopped drinking.
Boyd set the glass aside, gently brushing her hair behind her ear, his voice tender, "Lie back. I'll get the doctor."
Yasmine remained silent.
Boyd lingered for a few seconds before leaving the room. Soon, a team of doctors stood by her bed, examining her. From their demeanor, it seemed she wasn't in grave danger, but needed rest and recovery.
Boyd's tense expression eased slightly.
As the doctors were about to leave, Yasmine stopped them. "Wait."
Her voice was so faint she feared being ignored, but she caught the hem of the doctor's coat. The doctor turned back, smiling, "Is there anything else that's bothering you?"
"My baby," she whispered, "is it okay?"
Her voice was extremely soft, but it caused everyone in the entire ward to freeze, their expressions stiffening in that moment. They all looked up at Boyd. The doctor paused, then looked at Boyd too.
Yasmine's grip tightened, "I'm the one asking the questions. Why are you all looking at him?"
The doctor sighed, "You were shot in the chest and stabbed in the lower back. Both wounds were close to vital organs, but you were lucky. Saving you was nothing short of a miracle. However, the heavy blood loss and your weakened condition... the baby couldn't be saved."
After he spoke, silence filled the room.
Yasmine blinked slowly, then offered a weak smile, "My injuries were to my chest and back. They didn't harm my belly."
The doctor shook his head, "Miss, there are many reasons a baby can be lost, including emotional distress or physical weakness."
Her face paled, a painful lump formed in her throat, and then she let go of the doctor's coat.
She had guessed the outcome from everyone's reactions the moment she asked her question. She just didn't want to believe it.
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