“I called for help,” Dad said.
The woman stepped inside first. Her eyes moved quickly from me to the room, taking in the untouched food, the dim curtains, the stillness that had swallowed my life. “Emily Bennett?”
I tried to answer, but my throat closed.
Dad returned to my side. “She’s Emily Carter now,” he said quietly, then swallowed. “But she’s my daughter.”
The nurse introduced herself as Mara. Her voice was calm without being soft, steady without being cold. She asked if she could check me. I nodded because I could no longer think of any other way forward.
Ryan began talking at once.
“She’s fragile,” he said. “Pregnancy has been hard on her. She bruises easily. She’s emotional. You can ask anyone.”
Linda stepped beside him, folding her arms. “This is humiliating. Emily has always exaggerated when she doesn’t get her way.”
Dad turned then.
