Upon arriving at the hospital, Charlie insisted on an immediate examination by the doctor, despite my refusal. I wanted nothing more than to check on my father, haunted by the heroic image of him saving me from Miranda's cruelty.
I yearned to know his condition, but the fear of the unknown overwhelmed me. I couldn't bear the thought of him not surviving, especially without apologizing for my past behavior.
Throughout, I cried, allowing the doctor and nurse to treat the minor injuries inflicted by Miranda's torture. I couldn't deny her cruelty and insanity, her lack of empathy and compassion.
I couldn't forget her blows, the painful grips, the kicks, and more that I could barely recall. Now, my body ached, and my stomach felt stiff.
"What are you feeling now, Miss Mahoe?" the doctor asked.
"My stomach is still stiff," I replied anxiously. "Is my baby okay?"