"I'm done," she said, her voice finally steady. "I'm doing this on my own."
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The city was thick with the scent of summer rain and exhaust, a combination that usually made Natsuki Hatakeyama’s stomach turn. These days, everything made her stomach turn. She sat in the passenger seat of the aging sedan, one hand resting protectively over the swell of her stomach, the other gripping the door handle as the car swerved slightly. "I'm done," she said, her voice finally steady
Hours later, in the sterile, fluorescent glow of the hospital, Natsuki watched the steady rhythm of the fetal monitor. The "Better" part of the story didn't start with a miracle; it started with a choice. As the doctor confirmed the baby was safe, Natsuki looked at the officer standing by the door—the one who had held her hand while the paramedics loaded her into the ambulance. AI responses may include mistakes
Natsuki gasped for air, the pressure in her abdomen sharp and terrifying. She didn't look at the driver. She didn't care if he ran. She kicked her door open, stumbling out into the humid night air.