After he left the room, I checked my phone. Claire had called. There was also a message that reminded me that I had forgotten to pick up my prenatal vitamins. There was no signature, but it didn’t need one. I stared at the screen until my pulse started to pound in my throat. I knew what I had to do. Downstairs, I heard Adrian moving through the kitchen, opening drawers, humming softly to himself as though our life were perfectly ordinary.
I told Adrian the same story, that I had forgotten to pick up my prenatal vitamins. It was my lucky day. Adrian’s online meeting kept him busy, and I got to drive down alone. He didn’t suspect a thing. The clinic was dark except for one consultation room near the back, where Dr. Shah waited in plain clothes with a thick paper file on the table. She looked less like a doctor now and more like a woman who had rehearsed this conversation and still dreaded every word of it. “I’m not trying to frighten you,” she said as soon as I sat down. “I’m trying to stop you from walking deeper into something you do not understand.”
