The exam room was quiet except for the faint hum of fluorescent lights. Emma Harris, thirty-eight weeks pregnant, sat on the cushioned table, cradling her belly with one hand. She was tired, eager, and hopeful—this checkup was supposed to be her last before finally meeting her baby girl.
Her doctor, Alan Cooper, had been with her through the entire pregnancy. Normally, his voice was steady, reassuring, pointing out the baby’s heartbeat, the tiny fingers, the little profile forming week by week. But this time, something was different. His hand shook as he held the ultrasound probe.
The doctor paused, swallowed, and then said something that made her world tilt on its axis:
“You need to leave here today—and you need to keep your distance from your husband.”
The Warning
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