“Pretending again just to avoid doing more work?” she sneered.
“I’m not pretending,” I whispered, gripping the edge of the counter for balance. “Please… you have to call a doctor.”
She stepped closer to me, looking down with contempt.
“You lazy girl.”
Then she shoved me. Hard.
My feet slid helplessly on the slick tile floor. My back slammed violently against the sharp, unyielding edge of the granite island before I collapsed heavily onto the ground. Pain exploded through my entire body. Then, I felt a terrifying warmth spreading quickly beneath me. I looked down.
Blood.
“My baby…” I whispered, my voice trembling.
Thomas rushed into the kitchen with his colleague following right behind him. He looked down at the floor, but he didn’t look at me. He looked at the mess.
“Claire,” he groaned irritably, “why do you always have to create such drama?”
