Rick stared at the bottle in his hand, barely breathing.
It was cold against his palm, and yet his whole body felt like it was burning from the inside out. He turned the vial slowly, reading the prescription again and again, like it would somehow change.
But it didn't; the same abortion medication stared back at him.
His mind was reeling like crazy. Alia had said… she'd miscarried. She had cried, screamed, and nearly torn her own hair out. She'd blamed Emerald, sworn that she was pushed, sworn that the baby was 'taken' from her.
So why did she have this?
Suddenly, he heard footsteps echoing from down the corridor.
Rick's heart jumped. In one fluid movement, he shoved the bottle back into the drawer, slammed it shut, and stepped back just as the door creaked open.
Alia walked in, her heels clicking against the marble floor.
She paused when she saw him.
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "What are you doing in my room?"
