"How did you end up locked in a utility room like that? Were you kidnapped or coerced?" he asked, his voice soft but serious. "Don’t be afraid. If you need help, I can call the police for you."
I opened my mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, tears streamed down my face. For the first time in what felt like forever, I was alive. I had escaped death—escaped him.
The doctor, noticing my distress, didn’t push further. He knelt slightly to meet my eyes and explained patiently, "I was accompanying my sister to the dance competition. She left something backstage and when I went to retrieve it, I noticed blood on the ground. I followed the trail all the way to the utility room."
"It’s a good thing I wasn’t too late," he added with a faint smile. "Otherwise, you’d have turned into a popsicle by now."
He hesitated for a moment, studying me with a mix of regret and pity.
"I know who you are," he said finally. "The rare talent in the dance world—someone destined to shine." His voice softened even further. "But I have to tell you… your leg… you won’t be able to dance again."
The words hit me harder than any physical blow. My chest heaved as sobs wracked my body. I buried my head in my arms, shaking uncontrollably.
The doctor—he introduced himself as Adam Grant—stood nearby, clearly uncertain of how to console me. Finally, he handed me another report.
"Ms. Neall," he said gently, "there’s something else. You’re… pregnant."
"What?"
I stared at the report in disbelief, reading and rereading the words over and over again. My heart twisted and turned, a storm of emotions crashing over me.
I placed my hand on my stomach, feeling the faint stirrings of a life I hadn’t known was there.
Tears streamed down my face again, but this time, I didn’t know if they were for sorrow, fear, or the tiniest flicker of hope.
Ten minutes. That’s all it took for me to make a decision. Bringing a child into a world devoid of love—into a family like this—would only cause more pain. Not just for the child, but for me as well.
Tears slid down my cheeks as my heart felt like it was being torn into jagged pieces. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to look up at Adam, his steady presence somehow anchoring me in the storm of my emotions.
"Doctor," I began, my voice trembling but resolute. "Please schedule me for an abortion. Thank you."