Tom's POV
The words on my phone screen might as well have been written in fire. My blood turned cold as I read Delia's message again, each letter burning into my retinas. She was bleeding. Couldn't stop bleeding. Rushed to the hospital.
My fingers moved frantically across the keyboard before rational thought could stop them. "What happened? Where are you right now?"
The message went through, but my stomach dropped when I saw her status had already switched to offline. I pressed her contact, holding the phone against my ear like my life depended on it. Nothing. Just that mechanical voice informing me the number was unavailable.
I dragged my hand through my hair, the dining room suddenly feeling like a cage. The warm lighting that had seemed so inviting moments ago now felt oppressive. How could she send me something that devastating and then vanish? My thoughts spiraled into darker territory. The bleeding, the hospital, what if something had happened to our child?
