as you.
Please.
Sophie
By the time I finished reading, I was crying so hard I could barely see the page.
Next Thursday.
I remembered that Thursday.
I had been in a conference room discussing quarterly projections while Sophie went to the hospital alone.
And that night, I came home irritated because traffic had been bad.
The memory made me feel sick.
I folded the letter carefully and sat there for a long time.
Then something about the third page pulled at me.
I opened it again.
There’s something else.
When the doctor called with the first test results, he said some hormone levels were unusual.
Unusual hormone levels.
Related to the tumor or the miscarriage.
Afraid to hope.
Afraid not to.
A strange feeling moved through me.
Not understanding.
Not yet.
But unease.
I searched the drawer again, not to pry, but because Sophie had told me to read
