Evan Willow stared at her for a long while before finally seeming to deflate and sitting beside her bed, he asked in a soft voice, "...How's the baby?"
Amanda Smith paused slightly, then, after a moment, shook her head: "...I don't know."
Her hand lay on her lower abdomen, where a large bruise was present, a contusion caused by Fletcher Kinney's punch that day. The heart-piercing pain of that moment was indescribable, yet more heartbreaking was the blood that had flowed then.
Perhaps, it was already gone... she didn't know, and even refused to think about it.
To her, that child was perhaps more than just consolation; it was her sole path to the "normal" life she longed for. Without it, she wouldn't just be childless; she might never have anything in her life ever again.
Evan Willow, seeing the pallor of her face, sighed softly, reached out to hold her slightly cold fingers, and said quietly, "When the report comes out, I'll help you look at it."