The Price of a Sunrise

The white paper lining the medical examination table felt freezing beneath Claire’s trembling fingers as Dr. Mercer’s words settled over the small, sterile room like falling ash.

""We've confirmed a complete pregnancy loss, Claire,"" Dr. Mercer said gently, her hand resting over Claire’s cold wrist. ""Your hormone levels dropped significantly, and the ultrasound showed no remaining viable tissue. Your body is already processing the miscarriage.""

Claire stared blankly at the metal base of the examination stool, the tears finally running dry, leaving behind a hollow, echoing numbness.

She hadn't slept in twenty-four hours.

She had driven herself to the clinic while her body was tearing itself apart from the inside out, while her husband sat on a scenic mountain overlook watching the sun come up with another woman.

""Is it my fault?"" Claire whispered, her voice cracking. ""Did the stress—did I do something wrong?""

""No, Claire. Early miscarriages are almost always chromosomal anomalies,"" Dr. Mercer assured her firmly, squeezing her hand. ""You did nothing to cause this. But you need to rest, and you need someone to take care of you right now. Where is your husband?""

Claire swallowed the bitter lump in her throat, blinking back the stinging heat in her eyes.

""He's busy,"" Claire said, her voice dropping to a flat whisper. ""He had somewhere else to be.""