Chapter 3: The Longest Drive
Ryan had Emma's arm before I could move.
"How bad?" he said.
"I don't know." Emma pressed her free hand flat against her stomach.
"It's pressure.
A lot of pressure."
"We're going." Ryan looked at me across the table.
"Now."
I grabbed my bag.
My sister grabbed hers.
The rest of the room seemed to freeze — women half-standing, chairs pushed back, nobody sure whether to follow or stay.
Patricia stepped forward.
"I'll come with—"
"No." Ryan didn't look at her.
He said it the way you close a door.
Flat.
Final.
We left her standing at the head of the table with the balloon arch behind her and a room full of women who would not meet her eyes.
The drive to the hospital took eleven minutes.
I know because I counted.
I sat in the back with Emma, her hand locked around mine, and I watched her face for every shift, every wince, every breath that came out too sharp.
"Talk to me," I said.
"I'm okay." She wasn't.
"I just need them to check."
"They will.
We're almost there."
Ryan ran two yellow lights.
I didn't say a word.
In the waiting area, he paced.
Four steps one way, four steps back.
He still had the envelope in his jacket pocket — I could see the corner of it pressing through the fabric.
He hadn't let go of it.
I don't think he realized.
I sat down next to him.
"When did you find out?" I asked quietly.
"About the records."
He stopped pacing.
"Three days ago." He sat.
Ran both hands over his face.
"One of the nurses at the clinic — she recognized Emma's name.
She'd worked with me at the hospital two years back.
She called me privately because she didn't know what else to do."
"What exactly did Patricia ask them to look for?"
Ryan looked at the floor.
"Any condition that could be used to recommend termination.
Any complication.
Anything she could bring to me as a reason." He stopped.
"She told the clinic she was Emma's emergency contact.
She'd added herself to the form months ago without telling anyone."
The air went out of me.
"Ryan."
"I know."
"She was trying to end the pregnancy."
He didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
A nurse appeared in the doorway and called Emma's name.
Ryan was on his feet before the sound finished.
I followed them down the corridor, and I kept thinking about Patricia standing at that table — chin up, no apology, just that terrible silence when Emma asked her directly.
*To lose the baby?*
And nothing.
Not a word.
The examination room was small and too bright.
Emma changed into a gown while Ryan stood just outside the curtain, and I held the folded pile of her dress against my chest because I didn't know what else to do with my hands.
The doctor came in eight minutes later.
Young.
Calm.
She introduced herself as Dr.
Reyes.
"Let's see what's happening," she said, and reached for the ultrasound wand.
The room went quiet in a different way than the shower had.
That silence had been shock.
This one was prayer.
The screen filled with grey and white shapes.
Dr.
Reyes moved the wand slowly.
Her face gave nothing away.
Emma stared at the ceiling.
Ryan stared at the screen.
I stared at Ryan.
Then the sound came through — fast, steady, strong — and Emma made a noise that was not quite a word.
"Heartbeat is excellent," Dr.
Reyes said.
"Strong.
Baby is in good position."
Ryan sat down in the chair beside the bed.
He put his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.
"The pressure you're feeling," Dr.
Reyes continued, "is likely early Braxton Hicks combined with stress.
Your body has been through a significant emotional event today." She looked at Emma directly.
"Whatever happened before you came in — it needs to not happen again."
Emma looked at Ryan.
He looked up from his hands.
"It won't," he said.
Dr.
Reyes made a note.
"I'd like to keep you for two hours for monitoring.
If everything stays stable, you go home tonight.
But I want you resting for the remainder of this week.
No exceptions."
"Understood," Emma said.
The doctor left.
The curtain swung closed behind her.
For a moment, none of us spoke.
Then Emma turned her head toward Ryan.
"Tell me everything," she said.
"All of it.
Right now."
Ryan reached into his jacket.
He pulled out the envelope and set it on the bed beside her hand.
"It started six months ago," he said.
"Before we even knew the gender."
Emma looked at the envelope.
She didn't pick it up yet.
"How much did she pay them?"
May you like
Ryan's jaw tightened.
"Enough that someone almost didn't call me."
