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SHE WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO WAKE UP.”

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grief.

Panic.

Because across Clara’s swollen stomach—

half-hidden beneath makeup—

were fresh surgical markings.

Precise.

Deliberate.

Like someone had been preparing her body for an operation.

An operation she never agreed to.

“What the hell is this?” I whispered.

Dr. Crane broke down completely.

Marcus shouted,
“Don’t say another word!”

But the doctor was already continue reading …

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