Amelie sat in the small waiting area of Dr. Bavel's office, the ticking of the clock on the wall echoing her own rapid heartbeat.
The fluorescent lights above her buzzed softly, casting a sterile, white glow over the rows of neatly arranged magazines on the table in front of her. But she wasn't interested in any of them.
Her thoughts were tangled, swirling with the doctor's words from her previous diagnosis.
She still couldn't believe it. Two clinics. Two completely different results.
The first one, months ago, had told her she was infertile; but then, the second clinic told her she was perfectly healthy, and the confusion set in. How could there be such a discrepancy?
She knew she had to get to the bottom of it, but a part of her was afraid to face the truth. What if this was a mistake, and she was giving herself false hope? What if she really was infertile, and the second clinic had been wrong instead?