“She collapsed,” he says, talking to someone else. It’s my bodyguard.
“Get a stretcher. What happened before she collapsed?”
“She’s been sick for a few days. Vomiting.”
“Is she on medication?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
I try to focus on the conversation, to figure out what’s going on. When I drag my eyes open, bright, stark white light pierces my retinas.
“Where am I?” I mumble.
“Georgie, have you been taking any medication?”
My bodyguard drops me onto a bed. It’s hard. I squint at whoever is talking to me.
A young nurse is leaning over the side of the gurney, touching my face.
“Is this a hospital?” I say, shocked.
“You’ve apparently been sick for a few days. Have you been taking any medication?”
“Only some vitamins and ginger tea.”
The bed is moving, wheels squeaking as they push me down a long hallway.
“Where’s Kristopher?” I ask. I need him. I don’t care if I look desperate in his eyes. I want him here with me.
“Is that the man who brought you in?”
“No.”
“We’ll call him for him. Don’t worry. Just focus on yourself for now. The doctor is going to come and see you, ok?”
“Okay.” I close my eyes, taking deep, slow breaths. My body is shaking; I’m weak.
The nurses fuss over me, taking blood, monitoring my heart rate and blood pressure, and putting me on a drip.
They disappear, come back, take my temperate. Ask me a string of questions.
Then it’s quiet.
I’m lying in a private hospital room, waiting, exhausted, but too stressed to sleep.
The doctor comes in with a warm smile on his face and a clipboard in his hand.
“Georgie, my name is Dr. Milton. I hear you’re not feeling too good,” he says, his voice deep and his bright blue eyes framed by wrinkles.
“Yes, it’s been going on for a few days, but I didn’t think it was this bad.”
“We ran a number of tests, and you’ll be happy to know that we figured out why you’ve been feeling under the weather.” He chuckles, and I wonder why he’d find whatever virus I have amusing.
“Okay,” I say, sitting up in the hospital bed to give him my full attention.
He stands at the side of the bed. “You’re pregnant, young lady,” he grins.
“I’m what?” I blurt out.
