“Mifeprex. It’s best administered under medical supervision. But unfortunately, it’s commonly self-administered by women who want to induce miscarriage, much later in their pregnancy. It’s commonly known as the abortion pill.”

She couldn’t see where he was going. “Okay, but what does that have to do with me?”

“Perhaps you wanted to end your pregnancy.”

“Me? No. No way.” She felt stricken. “Never.”

Dr. Lehmann eyed her, plainly doubtful. “Many people who administer the pill themselves in the later trimesters don’t realize that it’s very dangerous and could lead to extreme loss of blood, which is what happened in your case. You could have bled to death.”

“You think I tried to give myself an abortion?”

“Yes, I do. You can tell me the truth or not. Up to you.” Dr. Lehmann paused as if for a confession.

“Is that why I miscarried?”

“Yes.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Your levels can be explained by only one thing. In fact, they suggest you took two pills. You wouldn’t be the first woman to have thought of that, either. Still, it’s very, very dangerous.”

“No, that’s not what happened! I did not take the pill, any pill. I never would. I wanted this baby.”

“I’m merely telling you what your blood work reveals.”

“Then it’s not my blood work. There’s been a mistake.” She looked at his lined face, then the equally grave faces of the interns. “There must have been a mistake.”

“Look, Mrs. Perez, this is your business. I want to emphasize to you that it would be unwise to ever do this again.” Dr. Lehmann’s expression softened. “No judgment here. I’m concerned only for your safety.”

She tried to function. “How does it cause an abortion, this pill?”

“The bottom line is that after the pill is ingested, severe cramping occurs and the fetus is expelled. When medically unsupervised, as in your case, it necessitates a D&C to be complete.” Dr. Lehmann checked his watch. “We must be going. Grand rounds this morning. We’ll check on you later.”

She watched them go in silence. After they had left, her thoughts tumbled over one another, fast and furious. She hadn’t taken an abortion pill, much less two. But she’d had cramping that night, so severe she’d doubled over from them. The cramps had started sometime after dinner.

She thought back to that awful night. She and Jack had had their typical Friday night dinner, which he routinely cooked as an end-of-the-week treat for her. He’d made chicken with rosemary and mashed potatoes, her favorite. He even shooed her from the kitchen when she’d tried to help and had served it to her at her seat, doling out extra mashed potatoes, over her protest.

The memory made her heart stop.

No.