{GIANNA}
The next couple of weeks fly by, and before I know it, I'm entering my third trimester and working at my hospital. My hospital. With my name on it. The words still taste unreal on my tongue.
On paper, my life has transformed into the kind of fairytale that would make Disney princesses seethe with jealousy. I have a husband who worships the ground I walk on—a man who would and has killed for me. I'm blessed with a friendship withNElira that fills a void I never acknowledged existed. I'm building a career that fulfills me, and inside my womb, a tiny life
thrives, growing stronger each day. I never even imagined I could ever be this happy. Never dared to hope for this much.
I should be drowning in contentment, suffocating from happiness. Instead, a shadow creeps across my perfect life—formless and insidious.
It starts small. One morning, I just wake up with a heavy heart, and no amount of pep talk or cheering up from Michael can snap me out of it.
