Mason didn't come back to the hospital room to corner me or apply more direct pressure. He didn’t send his lawyers to stand over my bed, nor did he text me an explicit list of rules and demands. He didn't need to. The parting warning he had breathed into the sterile air of the trauma bay was more than enough. It echoed in my ears every time the room grew quiet, a heavy, suffocating threat that chilled me to the bone.
But I wasn't just going to stand by and meekly accept my fate. I couldn't. The mere thought of a child growing inside me, of becoming a mother myself, sent a wave of pure, unadulterated terror through my soul. How could I ever raise a child? How could I protect a clean, innocent life when my own existence was an absolute wreck? Every memory I had of a parent-child dynamic wa
