The silence that had settled over the hospital room shattered as Orla's shrill voice cut through the air.
"You heartless witch!" she sobbed, pointing at Lyra. "How could you demand tests on my poor baby? It's barbaric!"
Tears streamed down Orla's face as she clutched her stomach dramatically. Jasper immediately wrapped his arm around her shoulders, glaring daggers at Lyra.
"Even in death, you won't let my child rest in peace," Orla continued, her voice breaking. "What kind of monster are you?"
Lyra crossed her arms, unmoved by the theatrical display. "A month-old embryo wouldn't feel pain, Orla. Basic science."
"See how cold she is?" Orla turned to Jasper, burying her face against his chest. "She's enjoying this!"
Percival stepped forward, placing a protective hand on Lyra's shoulder. "The tests will speak for themselves. We're done here until the results come back."
