“Shh,” I murmured, coming to my feet. “It’s okay,” I lied. I wasn’t sure what else to say.

Her breathing sped up, and the long moans turned to rapid-fire gasping and moaning. It terrified me. She shut her eyes tight, and suddenly a loud sob burst out of her mouth.

“Shh,” I whispered, leaning over her and pressing my cheek to hers. Our fingers were still entwined against the scratchy sheets. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

My words had no impact, but I hadn’t expected that they would. They didn’t mean anything. Nothing I could say in that moment would mean a goddamn thing. There was nothing I could do for her, nothing I could fix.

“I didn’t want it,” she said through gritted teeth, her voice so low I barely heard her. “I didn’t want it.”

I jerked in surprise but didn’t move my cheek from hers.

“I was worried about school, and I didn’t want it.”

“Yes you did,” I said finally. “You were just surprised.”

“And now it’s gone,” she said, ignoring my words. “What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything,” I argued, my chest so tight that I was having a hard time drawing a breath. “This isn’t your fault.”

“I didn’t want it, and now it’s gone,” she wailed.

“No,” I said into her ear. “No.”

“It’s gone, Alex,” she said with a sob. “Our baby is gone.”

“I know, sweetheart,” I whispered back, my voice catching on a sob.

I’d never understood pain before. I realized that as Sarai continued to tell me over and over again that our baby was gone.

The nurses gave us privacy for a while, but before long they came quietly back into the room. I dropped into the chair, and Sarai stared blankly at the ceiling, tears rolling down the sides of her face as they lifted the blankets and checked the pad they’d placed under her. I nearly vomited when they slid the pad out from under her and I saw the blood before they quickly wadded it up and threw it in the trash.

Somewhere in that bloody pad or the clothes they’d stripped off her in the ambulance was our child, too small to see even though I’d heard her heartbeat.

The nurses were efficient and kind, and they had Sarai quickly tucked into bed again, but I couldn’t forget that bloody pad. I stared at the trash bin marked BIOHAZARD as they left the room again.

“Knock, knock,” a quiet voice called from the hallway. I looked up to find Ani’s concerned face peeking around the doorjamb. “Can I come in?”

I looked over at Sarai, and she nodded.

“Hey,” Ani said, hugging me as I got to my feet. “How are you guys doing?”

“Shitty,” I murmured with a sigh.

“The baby?” she asked quietly.