She seemed petrified with fear, sitting alone in the chair, as if even her breathing had ceased.
"Miss Smith? Miss Smith?" the doctor, seeing her unnaturally pale complexion, couldn't help but ask, "Are you alright?"
Amanda Smith barely shook her head stiffly, "I'm fine."
She looked down at the several test results on the table, which clearly stated a few words—pregnant for one month and seven days.
Counting back the days, it must have been on the night of Samuel Johnson's birthday.
In this world, some tragedies seem endless.
Even as she suffered unbearably, she became pregnant.
Her head buzzed, and the hand clutching the lab report was so tense that veins popped out.
After taking a deep breath to calm herself slightly, she softly said, "I will consider the advice you gave me... thank you."
She nodded at the doctor and then left the hospital like a wandering spirit.