Then his subordinate placed a medical report on the table in front of him. The pregnancy test with the words "early pregnancy" sat next to the miscarriage diagnosis, the two documents forming a contrast so brutal it burned. His hands shook as he picked up the report. His thumb traced the clinical, sterile words, and his heart split open as if a blade had been driven through it again and again. Regret surged through him like a rising sea with no shore in sight.
His child. His and Lois's child. A tiny life that had only just arrived in this world, that had never seen its mother's face or its father's, was gone. It was his fault. His stubbornness. His willful blindness. He had killed his own child with his own hands and pushed away the woman he loved most.
"Godfather, please don't be too sad. You still have me. I'll always be by your side."
Selene's voice drifted from behind him, laced with practiced tenderness. But to Samuel's ears, in that moment, every syllable grated like nails down glass.
