Wendy tried to speak but couldn’t. All she could do was shake her head. Marissa grabbed her arm and pulled her out of her seat. Together they walked back through the milling crowd and out of the courtroom.

Spotting a ladies’ room, Marissa steered her friend into the lavatory.

“What is it?” Marissa asked. “Is it something between you and Gustave?”

Wendy shook her head again and sobbed. Marissa hugged her tight. “Is it this legal stuff?” she asked.

Wendy shook her head. “It’s my blood test,” she said at last. “I had it drawn on Saturday. I’m not pregnant.”

“But that was only the first test,” Marissa said. “They’ll have to do another to see how much the hormone goes up.” She was trying to be optimistic, but she knew that if Wendy thought she wasn’t pregnant, then she probably wasn’t. The news sent an icicle through Marissa’s heart. Just that morning before coming to the courthouse, Marissa had stopped at the Memorial for her blood to be drawn for the same test.

“The hormone level was so low,” Wendy sobbed, “I can’t be pregnant. I just know it.”

“I’m so sorry,” Marissa said.

“Do you think what happened at the clinic Friday night could have had an effect on the transfer?” Wendy asked.

“Oh, no!” Marissa said, even though the same awful thought was in her mind.

“Excuse me,” said a gum-chewing woman in a tight miniskirt. “Either of you Dr. Blumenthal?”

“I am,” Marissa said with surprise.

The woman hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “Your husband is waiting. Says he wants you out there immediately.”

“They must be starting the arraignments,” Marissa said to Wendy. “We have to be there.”

“I know,” Wendy said, still crying. She took tissue from Marissa and wiped her eyes. “I look terrible,” she said. “I’m afraid to look in the mirror.”

“You look fine,” Marissa lied.

The two women left the ladies’ room together. Robert was standing right outside the door with his hands on his hips.

“What’s the matter now?” he asked with exasperation after taking one look at Wendy. “You do understand that you have to be in the courtroom when your cases are called, don’t you?”

Marissa addressed him in a low, barely civil tone. “Look, I know it’s hard for you to appreciate, but Wendy is grief-stricken because her latest embryo transfer didn’t take. To us, it’s as bad and as real as a miscarriage.”

Robert rolled his eyes. “Come on,” he said. “She can save it for her therapist. I’m not about to let you jeopardize yourselves by missing your arraignment.”