~ Seraphina ~
The rain slicked the streets of Manhattan, turning the city into a blur of neon and gray. I steered the car into a neighborhood I rarely visited, miles away from the Upper East Side clinics where the staff knew my blood type and my husband’s favorite vintage. I found a small, nondescript medical center tucked between a laundromat and a bakery.
I didn't use the driver. I didn't use the GPS in the Mercedes. I walked into the clinic with my hood up, the damp air clinging to my skin.
At the front desk, a woman with tired eyes looked up from her computer. "Name?"
"Seraphina," I said.
She waited, her pen hovering over a clipboard. "Surname?"
"Just Seraphina." I slid a stack of cash across the counter—enough to cover the visit and the anonymity. "I’d prefer to keep the paperwo
