Relieved to have met Peter’s expectations, Millie allowed a sly, satisfied smile to creep across her face as she threw herself contentedly into his embrace, secure in his approval.
Peter's words made my heart surge with both anger and bitter curiosity.
I pricked up my ears to continue listening, when, suddenly, a frantic knock rattled the door of the duty room. The male nurse burst in, his face pale with worry.
“Doctor Peter, there’s a pregnant woman with a uterine hemorrhage who needs immediate help!”
For a fleeting moment, a rush of hope swept through me.
Could it be me? Could I still be saved?
Peter, the embodiment of confidence and composure, faltered. He stammered, fingers fidgeting and crushing the edges of a medical file in his hands.
“How is that possible? Tonight, five deliveries, four of them successful, only…” his mind churned, clearly shaken.
“Could it be Gia?” Millie gasped, her face blanching in sudden panic as she bolted toward the emergency room.
But when Millie reached the operating room, her expression twisted into one of sour disappointment as she eyed the unfamiliar face lying on the table.